


Creating Chaos

by more0rLessJess



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: BAMF Felicity Smoak, Basically what happens to Arrow if Felicity has a very different backstory, Canon-Typical Violence, Con Artists, F/M, Felicity Smoak-centric, Morally Ambiguous Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pink Haired Felicity Smoak, Private Investigator Felicity Smoak, Season One Arrow, Thanks to her Uncle Jack, Vigilante Oliver Queen, morally grey felicity smoak, some canon divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23654443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/more0rLessJess/pseuds/more0rLessJess
Summary: Felicity Smoak is the best (and most notorious) Private Investigator in Starling City, investigating everything from bail jumpers and cheating spouses to corporate fraud. After growing up under the tutelage of her professional conman and sort-of Uncle Jack she was never going to have a normal career—much to her mother’s disappointment. So, armed with her four-legged partner, Ace, her computer knowledge and a sharp tongue, Felicity had made a name for herself outside of Las Vegas and in her own city.Then one day, a Robin Hood wanna-be mistakes her for a damsel in distress and ‘saves’ her from a perp. Except, she didn’t need saving and Robin Hood cost her five grand for the potential bounty. From that night on, Felicity can’t seem to go anywhere in her city without the archer’s irritating presence. She always did attract trouble, but mysterious vigilantes were a new one, even for her.If there was one thing Felicity Smoak hated, it was mysteries. They needed to be solved.And she had yet to come up against a case she couldn’t solve.
Relationships: John Diggle & Felicity Smoak, John Diggle & Oliver Queen, John Diggle & Oliver Queen & Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen & Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 179
Kudos: 261





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Very excited to post this! I've been working on it for a long time and I really like it. It's basically a mash up of the humor from one of my fics with the seriousness of the other fic. Now that I completed Baby Daddy, I'm finally allowing myself to post this fic hahaha. It features an original character in the form of Felicity's uncle Jack, and his influence on her life and how it changes her.  
> Honestly, this fic came to me the second I watched the season seven episodes of Felicity with pink hair. That's all it took for this entire idea to form hahaha.  
> But I hope you guys enjoy it, I have a good bit already written out so hopefully it'll help me keep posting regularly. :)  
> That said, any comments or kudos would be so appreciated. :)
> 
> Without further ado~

Felicity brought the camera she was using to take pictures of her clients cheating husband up to her eye, zooming in on a particularly damning, and flexible, position the man was currently in.

“Huh,” She muttered under her breath, “Never tried that before. Then again, I don’t like to be tied up. But I guess he does. Think his wife knows that specific kink, Ace?” Felicity turned to her large German Shepard sitting in her passenger seat. The dog stared at her, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Me either. I think I’ll leave this photo out when I show Mrs. Jones what Mr. Jones has been up too.”

She sighed, setting down the camera. She had enough evidence for her client to pay up. Despite being a private investigator, which meant she spied on people for a living, Felicity didn’t really like to be a voyeur on other people’s sex lives. Yeah, no. That wasn’t a kink of hers either. But this was the job she chose. Moving to Starling had seemed smart a few years ago. She’d just graduated MIT and had wanted to open her own private investigation practice, and Starling City seemed like a good place to start.

Tons of crime, terrible police force and the idle rich willing to spend their money on private investigators to find out other rich peoples dirty secrets.

But it wasn’t Las Vegas. There were no bright neon lights, no dancing fountains, no casinos, no deserts and not enough easy marks because Starling lacked tourism.

Not to mention, Starling city was cold ninety percent of the year.

Sometimes she really missed her home.

And the people she left behind there. Her Uncle Jack and the others might not be blood, but they were as equally part of her family as her mother was.

Not for the first time, she almost regretted not moving back to Vegas post grad.

But if she did that then she’d never make her own name and forge her own path. Uncle Jack was a known, and powerful, man back in Vegas. Felicity knew if she stayed or went back, she’d be tied to him and his connections forever. Felicity liked her independence here in Starling, even if she did miss her family.

She was anonymous here and that was something Felicity valued. Anonymity wasn’t something she was afforded in Vegas, not in circles she ran in, or at least not anymore. She had garnered a name for herself there, but it wasn’t just created her own, which was part of the problem. Uncle Jack had his hand in it. Her name went side by side with his because she was his protege and all of Vegas knew it.

Felicity was free in Starling. Free to hack to her hearts content, to investigate without Jacks name helping her, and be somewhere people weren’t terrified of her solely due to Jack’s influence in her life.

And Uncle Jack had always said one of a con man’s greatest strengths was being invisible when they needed to be. It was skill she utilized as private investigator.

**

_Flashback: 11-year-old Felicity, Las Vegas_

_“Keep your head down, and keep moving,” Uncle Jack instructed, demonstrating the posture. Head tipped down, his broad shoulders dropped and slightly turned. “By the time they realize somethings missing and someone bumped into them, they won’t remember your face.”_

_Felicity mimicked his stance, letting her brown frizzy curls fall into her face then brushed past him, knocking into him lightly. “Like that?”_

_“Perfect. Remember, being invisible is your greatest asset. It can be the difference between a successful job and a jail cell. Being forgettable, blending in and looking the part,” He gestured to her outfit, the ‘I Love Vegas’ in the center of the chest in bold letters and terrible khaki pants that screamed ‘tourist’, “Can get you whatever you want if you know how to use it. And you do. Tell me how.”_

_“’Never use your thumb, only index and middle finger, and they won’t feel it,’” Felicity repeated what he’d told her as they practiced her pick pocketing over and over._

_The plan was to finally put her new skills to the test out on the Strip in broad daylight. She looked the part of just another tourist and would hopefully be able to disappear into the large crowds easily without notice. And since she looked like an innocent little girl, because well, she was one, Felicity had a feeling she’d get away with it._

_“Exactly. And I’ll be following you the entire time, just in case.” His dark brown eyes were warm with encouragement, “But you won’t see me.”_

_“I want to learn how to follow someone without them realizing next.” Felicity told him excitedly, nearly bouncing in her old beat up sneakers._

_“Another lesson for another day,” Uncle Jack grinned, before turning stern. “What’s our rule, Mouse?”_

_“Don’t be seen, only take from those who can afford it or deserve it, and don’t get caught.” Felicity rattled off, her voice serious._

_“Yes, but what else?” At her blank look, he added, “Don’t tell Donna.”_

_Felicity snorted. “Right, don’t tell my mom.”_

_“Good girl,” Jack smirked. “You ready?”_

_She held up the leather wallet she pilfered from his pocket when she brushed against him in practice earlier, “I don’t know, what do you think?”_

_She couldn’t help but grin at the surprise on his face as he instinctively patted the pocket where he kept his wallet._

_“And the student becomes the teacher.” The pride was unmistakable in his tone._

_“More like the master.” Felicity dangled the Rolex he usually wore on his wrist from her fingers, swinging it in a circle. She’d also swiped it without him noticing._

**

Felicity was seated at her desk chair at Overwatch Investigations, attempting to get comfortable in the hard seat. She really needed to buy a new one—with lumbar support, since her current one was severely lacking it. She attached the less dirty, but still damning, pictures of Mr. Jones and his company in an email to send to his wife. As soon as the check cleared, Felicity was buying herself a new chair.

Private investigating paid decently enough, but with her bad habit of spending it all on anything electronic, she blew through it fairly quickly. Especially since she had to pay rent on her tiny office space plus her apartment. She considered working from her apartment but one of the rules she’d learned growing up was never to mix business and home life. And rent in Starling, even in the Glades where her office was, wasn’t cheap.

Felicity supposed that was mostly due to Starlings corrupt landlords, better known as slum lords.

Her own apartment was on the edge of the Glades, so it was a little nicer than some on the market. But the building had seen its better days. Felicity didn’t really care though, she kept up her own space and made it her home. She was used to small, semi-terrible apartments growing up with a single mother in Vegas. Uncle Jack wasn’t always there, and when he did come into their lives her mother had always refused any help he offered, which Felicity understood, since she did the same thing when she moved away. He’d told her he’d help her out, but she didn’t want him too either.

Felicity was as fiercely independent as her mother.

Her sore back protested such stubbornness. Felicity twisted in her seat, trying to relieve some of the pressure. It didn’t really help. She sent the email off, including the address and business name for the check to made out to in the bottom. Mrs. Jones had already paid a small deposit for her services, but now the job was done, and the rest was due. Felicity powered down her computer, then stood up. She tossed her back pack over her shoulder, grabbed Ace’s leash and her keys.

She whistled at him, and he perked up immediately, running to her from where he was laying on his dog bed in the corner. He sat down on his hind quarters in front of her and licked her hand happily.

Felicity giggled.

“I’m ready to go home too, boy. C’mon.” She snapped the leash onto his collar and led him out of the building, locking her office before she left. Felicity looked down at him, “Do you want to get Chinese? I’m craving it. I know it’s late, but you love the sweet and sour chicken and I really want some noodles.”

He stared up at her, then licked his lips.

“That’s a yes then.” She laughed, turning on her heel and steering him in the opposite direction of her car and towards the 24-hour Chinese restaurant down the block.

The Glades might not be the safest place to walk down the street in the middle of night, but Felicity wasn’t worried. She had her taser (it was of her own design and way stronger than was legally allowed), pepper spray, self-defense lessons and a giant, nearly one-hundred-and-twenty-pound former K9 deputy as her back up. It was why she named the German Shepard Ace, because he was her ‘ace in the hole.’ An extra advantage should she need it.

Felicity was about to enter into the Chinese restaurant, when a man pushed out of the doors forcing her to step back so they didn’t run into each other.

“Watch it.” He muttered and glared at her, before stalking down the street with a bag of takeout clutched in his hand.

Felicity tilted her head, her mind racing. He was familiar and she couldn’t place it. Where had she seen his face?

Then it struck her. The SCPD wanted wall.

His name was Dustin Turner and he’d skipped out on $50,000 bond, accused of domestic violence, armed robbery and possession of stolen fire arms.

So not a nice guy, but a very nice paycheck.

The going rate for bail bonds in Starling were 10% so she could make five grand if she dropped Turner off to her favorite grumpy detective at the SCPD tonight. That, plus the incoming payment from Mrs. (soon to Ms.) Jones meant Felicity might be able to treat herself to a new tablet along with a desk chair. She grinned. Even though she usually preferred other jobs over bounty hunting, the money was good so she did it.

“Looks like we’re not getting dinner tonight.” She whispered to Ace, following after Turner and staying a few paces back so he wouldn’t hear her approach.

Felicity let go of Ace’s leash, her loyal companion trailing next to her without needing direction. She reached into her purse to pull out her modified taser (she made it way stronger than was legal) and a pair of handcuffs. She studied him, figuring out the best way to approach. She knew she had the element of surprise, but he was large and she most definitely wasn’t. Felicity was proficient in her self-defense training, but even with it, his brute strength could over power her if she chose the wrong approach.

She’d need to be sneaky, get him handcuffed and properly threatened with the taser to make him cooperate.

Felicity got closer to Turner, her footsteps silent, but before she could get one of the silver cuffs around his wrist, he caught her reflection behind him on the darkened glass from the store windows they were passing. Turner spun around, dropping the bag of take out on the pavement (tragically spilling lo mien noodles everywhere) and swinging his arm out. She swiftly ducked to avoid the punch to the face. Ace growled, his teeth bared, hackles rising.

“Ace, stay!” Felicity ordered him, planting her feet and sliding easily into her defensive stance, “Not yet. I’ve got this.” The man in front of her was an asshole and an abuser, but Ace biting him would hurt like hell and then he’d have to go to the hospital.

And that meant it’d take longer for him to get processed and for her to get her check.

“Got what? You’re a crazy bitch, get away from me.” Turner spat, squaring up in front of her.

“That’s the second time you’ve been rude to me tonight.” Felicity said casually, “First time got you recognized for skipping bail, second time is gonna get you cuffed too tight.” She slid her finger over the trigger of her taser, a warning in her voice. “Don’t let there be a third.”

“You think you’re some kind of bounty hunter?” He had the audacity to laugh at her. He trailed his eyes up and down her body in an obvious leer, and partial mocking. No doubt he wasn’t taking her seriously in her leggings, hoodie and blonde hair streaked with pink. At least she had her contacts in instead of wearing her usual glasses. “I have a better idea for those handcuffs. I think I want you to wear them while I show you what happens when little bitches talk back and try to threaten me.” His words and body language were full of violence, while his gaze remained lecherous.

He lunged forwards, and she side stepped him easily. Turner grunted in frustration.

“That’s three.” Felicity said, taking aim and preparing to tase him where the sun don’t shine. But she never got the chance, because two things happened so quickly that if she blinked, she would have missed it.

The first, an honest to God arrow whizzed through the air and impaled Turner through the shoulder causing him to drop to the ground immediately, screaming in pain. The second, a man stepped out of the shadows, holding a bow while wearing a green leather suit with a hood pulled low over his face, shrouding it in darkness and obscuring his features.

Despite that the night seemed to cling to him and made him look like he stepped out of a dark fairy tale, he was obviously male. The broad shoulders, the thick muscles encasing his arms and thighs, and his height made it clear. Felicity observed the way he held himself, tightly coiled and ready to strike in an instant if necessary. It seemed like it went beyond good training, nearing on instinctual. She had no doubt he was as dangerous as he looked.

The arrow in Turner’s shoulder proved it.

“Are you hurt?” He called out to her, his voice deep and raspy and so close to a growl she almost thought it was coming from Ace.

Ace spurred into action at his voice. He moved in front of Felicity, dropping his head with his ears pinned back as a low rumble emanated through his snarled lips. The man in the hood watched the dog cautiously, but made no attempt to move closer, and Felicity placed a soothing hand on Ace’s fur. She didn’t think the stranger was going to harm her, not after his misguided attempt to save her from Turner, who was still crying on the ground.

Who’s the bitch now, Felicity thought to herself.

Felicity nearly smirked at that thought before realizing the bizarreness of the situation she found herself in.

What kind of crazy person runs around with a bow and arrow and shoots people with it?

“I’m fine,” Felicity said finally, eyeing the green clad stranger carefully, “Who do you think you are? Robin Hood? You just screwed up my bounty.” She blurted out, then decided maybe it wasn’t the best idea to antagonize the very large, very dangerous and armed man in front of her. “I mean, thanks for the help but it wasn’t necessary. I had it handled, and now I have to get this idiot to the hospital and explain to the police I didn’t shoot him. And they don’t like me very much, so you made my night a lot harder than it needed to be.” Her voice came out more aggravated than she meant for it too.

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t totally successful in not antagonizing him.

He stepped forwards, causing Felicity to tighten her grip on her protective dog as Ace tried to lunge at him. The man didn’t seem to be bothered by it anymore. Now that he was closer, she could see his lips turn down into a frown, and she identified a scruff covering his jaw and a set of full lips. With the half of face she _could_ see, Felicity knew he was handsome.

“What?” That same dark, deep voice that bordered on animalistic coming from him.

A voice synthesizer, she realized.

He was purposefully distorting his voice to help hide his identity with the added benefit of sounding absolutely terrifying. It was as smart as it was expensive. Which confirmed he was more than some wanna-be superhero cosplayer. The kind of money those cost, on top of his obvious skill set led her to believe he wasn’t doing this lightly, or naively. He was well trained, well-funded, and committed to the vigilante role.

Maybe a past spook?

CIA or Special Forces?

“I’m a private investigator,” Felicity explained quickly, feeling a lot more nervous now that he was closer. “I also do a bit of bounty hunting on the side. Like Dustin Turner here. Real asshole. Domestic violence, armed robbery and possession of stolen firearms. Plus, he called me a bitch. And you just should not call a woman a bitch, you know? So, I was going to give him a little zap with this bad boy,” She rambled, bringing the taser to his attention. He didn’t even glance at. Felicity found herself a little aggravated at his dismissal of the weapon, and by extension her, as a threat.

“But then you came out of nowhere with your _grrr, must arrow to protect damsel,_ ” Felicity had dropped her voice to mimic him then cleared her throat, “I’m not, by the way. Not a damsel. I do all my own rescuing thank you very much.”

His lips twitched upwards, but the frown won out, locking what little expression she could see into seriousness. “He’s twice your size, and all you have is a taser.”

“And a very large dog and self defense skills. I know what I’m doing.” Felicity couldn’t believe she was defending herself to a person who ran around in a leather super suit with a bow and arrow. “I’ve been doing it for years. And I always make sure I have protection.” Her face burned. “I did not mean that in a sex way. Even though I do practice safe sex, when I do, do _it_. Oh my god. Stop talking, Felicity.”

She wished the ground would open up and swallow her where she stood.

This time, his lips broke free of the seemingly permanent frown and turned into a brief smile before he wiped what she could see of his expression away.

“I’ll take care of him. Go home, _Felicity_.” The way her name sounded on his lips and through the synthesizer sent shivers down her spine.

No one had ever said it like that before. He enunciated each syllable, giving each one more meaning than the last.

What the meaning was, she didn’t know.

But the way he said it, _how_ he said it with his voice rumbling through his chest, it sounded like the most tempting mixture sin and danger.

A whisper straight from the lips of the devil himself.

Which wasn’t far off, as the man in front of her certainly looked like he was something supernatural. From the energy he exuded, to the way he seemingly stepped out of darkness to just appear in front of her. It was something otherworldly.

Felicity didn’t scare easily, her upbringing made sure of that, but something about the hooded figure in front of her sent warning bells off in her head, screaming ‘beware.’

“Uh, thanks but no thanks.” She managed to say, an octave higher than she meant too. Felicity cleared her throat. “Like I said, I want the bounty. I have a contact in the SCPD. I’ll call him.”

Plus, she also didn’t know what he meant by ‘take care of him’ and didn’t want to take the chance that it was more homicidal than helpful. Turner had at least stopped screaming and was currently passed out on the pavement, presumably from the pain and blood loss. He posed no more threat to her.

“Suit yourself.” He tilted his head down at her, in a goodbye gesture.

Felicity lifted the hand that wasn’t holding her loyal companion back and waved awkwardly. In the blink of an eye, the hooded man raised his bow and loosed an arrow towards the top of the nearest building. Moments later, he followed behind it.

“A grappling arrow? Seriously?” Felicity muttered to herself, releasing Ace and pulling out her phone. She dialed a number she knew by heart.

“ _What did you do now?_ ” The gruff voice on the other end answered on the second ring.

“Uh, surprisingly, nothing. Sort of.” She responded, glancing down at the unconscious man with the arrow wound in his shoulder.

“ _Sort of?_ ” Detective Lance questioned.

“It’s a long story. How about you meet me in front of,” Felicity glanced at the store front behind her, “ _Becky’s Beauty and Barber_ and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“ _It’s the middle of the night and you want me to come all the way down to the center of the Glades without a reason why?”_ His voice was exasperated, but she heard the jingle of car keys over the line.

“Trust me, it’s one of those seeing is believing type of situations.”

**

One hour later Felicity and Detective Lance were sitting in an SCPD interrogation room.

“This isn’t very nice, Detective.” Felicity said, pouting while she ran her fingers behind Ace’s ears as he sat on the floor next to her. Lance had only allowed him inside because the dog refused to part from Felicity’s side and growled at anyone who got near her, including the detective himself. “I told you, I didn’t shoot the guy.”

Lance huffed, dragging his hand over his face.

“I know that, arrows aren’t your style.” He said dryly, “You prefer tasers and good old fashioned hay makers. But while Turner is in surgery to get an honest to God arrow removed from his shoulder, you’re still a suspect and we have to go over everything.”

“Again?” She slumped in her seat, trying to ignore her growling stomach and the burn in her eyes caused by exhaustion and from wearing her contacts too long. Felicity rubbed at them, trying to make them water to get some moisture back.

He eyed her attentively, “Where are your glasses?”

“I was working a case earlier and I don’t like to wear them in the field. It’s hard to take pictures when the camera hits my glasses.” She didn’t mention how she also didn’t like to wear her glasses in case one of the people she’s tailing notices her and tries to get violent. It’s happened before. Or in case something else happens, like tonight’s misadventure. If Turner had landed one of his punches, he would’ve broken her glasses.

And they were expensive to replace.

Not to mention, it wasn’t fun getting glass shards embedded into the skin.

“I see.” The gruff man let out a sigh, “You hungry, kid?”

Felicity sat up straighter. “Yes, starving. This whole thing interrupted my dinner plans.” At his raised eyebrow, she elaborated. “Chinese takeout.”

“Well, I don’t have that, but we do have vending machines. I’ll get you something before we start again.” He pushed back in his chair, the metal legs scraping across the floor noisily.

Ace startled, and Felicity soothed him with another quick scratch behind his ears.

“I’m allergic to nuts.” She called out, “So none of those unless you wanna kill me. Can I get a water too?”

Lance gave a short nod, before exiting the room.

“Lance is cool and all, but if he’s playing good cop, and bad cop is about to come in, I’m going to be pissed. And insulted. It’s not like I’m lying. And if I was, it’s not like he would even know it. I’ve been lying to cops since I was like ten.” Felicity leaned down and whispered to Ace, aware of the recording cameras in the room. Ace licked her face. “Ew.”

The door opened and Felicity was relieved to see it was just the grumpy detective and no one else. He dropped a water bottle, a slightly bruised apple and a bag of chips on the table. Felicity grinned at him.

“Thanks, Quentin.” She said cheekily.

“Don’t mention it.” He took his seat, “And how many times do I have to say it? It’s Lance or Detective Lance to you.” He tried to sound stern, but his lips were quirked up in a small smile.

“Sure it is, Detective,” Felicity agreed easily, “I don’t suppose you have a bowl for Ace do you? He needs water too.”

Lance stared at her. “Your mean ass mutt will be fine. The sooner we finish this, the sooner you can take him home.”

Felicity pouted. “He’s not mean, and he’s not a mutt. He’s a good boy. And you’re the one who gave him to me, so I know you don’t believe that.”

Ace had been a failed SCPD K9. He hadn’t wanted to listen to the orders of sniffing out drugs or attacking suspect, preferring to do whatever he wanted when he wanted. He was too strong willed, and a little mean if the handler pushed too much. Lance had told her about Ace failing out, how he needed a home and asked her if she could take him. She’d readily agreed. Ace had been her partner for two years now. All he needed was a little love and a strong connection to his partner and then he was the perfect companion-slash-guardian.

Plus, he could still sniff out drugs and be an attack dog when she wanted him too.

He nodded decisively. “Actually, it’s exactly why I gave him to you. You need someone mean watching your scrawny back if you’re gonna keep doing this bounty hunter schtick.”

She rolled her eyes at him and opened her chips as loudly as she could in hopes of irritating him.

“It’s not a schtick,” Felicity stuffed a few chips into her mouth, being sure to talk with her mouth open while chewing because she knew it would annoy him. “I’m a licensed Private Investigator, and sometimes that means I follow up on people who skip out on bail. And then return them to where they belong.”

“Like the hospital?” Lance questioned, voice stern.

“Oh my god,” She groaned. “For the last time, no. I didn’t hurt Turner. I was about to tase his rude ass when a Robin Hood cosplayer came out of no where and shot him with an arrow. Which was vaguely annoying because I didn’t need to be saved and I’m pretty sure he fucked up me getting the bounty.” Felicity paused, another chip halfway to her mouth. “Hang on, do you know anything about that? Can I still get the money?”

“What the hell is a cosplayer?” He sounded very confused, before he added dryly. “And Turner is fine, by the way. You got lucky this Robin Hood fellow didn’t kill him. But no, I don’t see it getting paid out now that he’s been hospitalized.”

“Google it.” She said, referring to the cosplay question. “And fuck.”

Lance shot her a dirty look.

“I mean, frack.” Felicity corrected, smiling politely. “Look, you know I didn’t do it or have anything to with him because why would I fu-, mess up, my own money?” She reasoned and Lance seemed to come to the same conclusion. “Can I please go now?”

“Yes.” He sighed heavily. “I want you to call me if you remember anything, or if you see Robin Hood again.”

Felicity stood up quickly, mock saluting him. “Of course, Detective. I always report crime to the proper authorities.”

They both knew that was a lie.

“Get out, before I find something to charge you with.” Lance grumbled at her, pointing to the door.

“You don’t have to tell me twice. C’mon Ace.” Her dog jumped up, ready to follow her.

“Not so fast. Take the apple and the water.”

“I knew you cared.” Felicity grinned at him.

“You have the right to remain silent, anything-,” He started to read off her Miranda rights and she was out the door before he could finish, apple and water bottle in hand.

**

In the building across from the Starling City Police Department, a man in a green hood was perched on the roof, keeping watch as a petite blonde woman walked out. She was followed closely behind by a large dog.

He was intrigued by her.

He hadn’t planned on revealing himself, not yet. He’d only been back for a day and he wanted to get used to being in his city again before making any moves. His focus had been on getting reacquainted with Starling and gathering as much intel as he could about the worst parts of it.

But then he’d seen a man who was at least twice the size of a woman he was clearly threatening, and he’d stepped in. It wasn’t something he could look past. He’s seen a lot of terrible things, and violence against women was something he’d never been able to turn a blind eye too.

The last thing he’d expected was for the small woman with the bright blonde hair to whirl around and berate him for saving her. It was then he noticed the pink streaks running through the blonde and coloring the tips of her hair. He thought it was fitting for her, the vibrancy of it.

And the more she talked, the more she surprised him.

He wouldn’t have guessed she was a PI, but somehow it made sense.

Felicity made her way to her car, opening the passenger door and the dog jumped in. She patted him a few times, then kissed the dog’s forehead before shutting the door. She went to the driver’s side next and slid into the seat, pulling out sooner after. He waited until was out of sight before leaving himself.

The archer jumped off roof easily, parkouring his way down using the fire escape on the side of the building. As soon as his thick soled boots landed against the dirty alley ground, he slung his bow over his shoulder. He pulled the motorcycle he’d stashed behind the dumpster out and mounted it, revving the engine. He stopped by the old iron factory to put away his gear before heading home for the night. Just as he climbed back through his window, redressed in his regular clothes, a knock sounded on the door.

“Just a minute.” He called out, closing the window and kicking off his shoes. A quick look in the mirror told him he’d gotten all the greasepaint off from around his eyes. His face may have been clear of it’s disguise, but Oliver Queen still didn’t recognize the man staring back him. He blinked once, and then opened the door. “Hi, Speedy.”

“Hey Ollie,” His baby sister smiled at him. “Wanna catch up on some of the movies you missed in the past five years?” She held up a stack of DVD’s.

The one, and possibility only, thing that hadn’t changed about Oliver Queen since surviving purgatory was that he’d never been able to deny Thea anything. He knew he probably wouldn’t be sleeping anyways, so he figured he might as well spend time with his baby sister.

“Of course. Come in.” He said, holding the door open wider.


	2. Honor Thy Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity grants a favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to post two chapters :)   
> Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Without further ado~

Felicity walked into her office, Ace trailing happily behind her. She turned on the flat screen TV, which was mounted to the wall. She rolled her eyes when even more coverage of Oliver Queen’s return from the dead was broadcasted. Ever since he’d turned up, the news had done nothing but flash his picture and talk about him and his infamous past. They were all wondering when he’d get back to his old ways of partying and sleeping around. She didn’t know why exactly that was even a question, because the man had spent five years alone on a deserted island.

There was no way he was the same person from before it.

He needed to go to therapy, not parties.

Felicity just hoped he at least had a Wilson the Volleyball to keep him company.

A sketch of a man in a hood appeared on the screen and Felicity hastily turned up the volume.

“… _barely back in Starling and Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn are already causing chaos. The two billionaires were kidnapped by three armed men yesterday, and get this folks, apparently rescued by a man wearing a green hood and wielding a bow and arrow. So not only have we had one celebrity return, but another in the form of Robin Hood.”_ Bethany Snow snickered. “ _Except this time, he’s saving the rich. Robin Hood killed all three men who kidnapped the billionaires without revealing his identity. This is the image provided by the SCPD. If anyone has any knowledge-,”_

She muted the TV.

“Holy shit.” Felicity said, shocked. “It wasn’t some crazy, hunger induced hallucination a few nights ago. He was real.”

She grabbed her phone and dialed.

“I told you so.” Felicity didn’t even wait for him to speak.

“ _That’s a rude way to call someone.”_ Lance responded.

“Yeah, well you accused me of arrowing someone the other night.” She put the phone on speaker and moved to her desk, intent on hacking into the SCPD servers to find out more if Lance wouldn’t tell her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d done it, and she doubted it’d be the last. But Felicity try the other way before resorting to the illegal option. As Uncle Jack always said, ‘you don’t need to run a con if you can just ask and get the same result.’ With that in mind, Felicity asked, “But now you know I didn’t arrow anyone, and this guy is real. What do you know about him?”

“ _First off, I can’t tell you anything about an ongoing SCPD investigation. Secondly, I told you I didn’t think you actually did it. But I had to question you. You know, because I’m a detective?”_ He said sarcastically.

“C’mon Quentin, you won’t tell your favorite Private Investigator even a little bit? Just a teeny tiny amount of information.” Felicity pushed, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

“ _Absolutely not. I could lose my job. The captain would have my ass. Everyone wants this psycho off the streets. He killed three men yesterday, Felicity.”_

“And he saved the lives of two.” She countered. “The news said men were armed and somehow, I don’t think they were fake guns. Were Queen or Merlyn able to see any identifying features? Stuff that hasn’t been released to the news?”

A heavy sigh came over the line. “ _Stay out of this, kid. I mean it.”_

Felicity couldn’t do that. The hooded man was a mystery. And mysteries needed to be solved.

“Of course.” She lied. “Wouldn’t dream of sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.” Felicity said while pulling up the familiar server to the SCPD mainframe.

“ _Could you at least try not to sound so sarcastic when you say that?_ ”

“Bye, Quentin.” Felicity said cheerfully, hanging up the phone.

Time to find out more about the mysterious man in the hood.

Unfortunately, there was nothing to find. The SCPD knew next to nothing about him except for a basic physical description and the kind of weapon he preferred.

Literally that was it.

Male, about 6’2, muscular build and used a bow and arrow.

He was either really good at leaving no evidence, or the SCPD was that incompetent.

Probably both, she decided.

**

The next few days passed by without any further information about the Hood. That was what every newscaster in Starling was calling him now. The only things that seemed to play on any cable station recently was about Oliver Queen along with his recent legal resurrection from the dead, the Hood and the lawsuit against Martin Somers.

Somers was just another corrupt asshole in Starling. And Felicity knew for a fact that he had ties to the Chinese triad.

“... _Attorney Laurel Lance is spearheading the trial against Somers. The SCPD have even placed her under police protection for the duration of it. Now to our resident legal expert who will-,_ ” Bethany Snow’s grating voice came over the TV speaker and Felicity shut it off.

Somers was guilty but Starling’s justice system wasn’t exactly just. She doubted he’d be convicted.

**

Felicity yawned.

She’d been sorting through emails from people who wanted to take their cases for the past couple hours. Most of them were boring. It was the usual ‘help I think my significant other is cheating on me’ and she was so sick of those. Felicity already had a fairly jaded view of marriage and relationships.

Being in her field of work wasn’t helping that.

But those kinds of cases were her bread and butter, so she had to take them. Her usual routine was to read through the email then do a quick background check of the person to make sure everything looked legit. Her phone rang, pulling her attention from the Overwatch Investigations email. Lance’s name flashed across the screen.

“Hello Detective,” Felicity greeted. “What can I do you for?” She paused. “That sounded weird. Let me rephrase, what’s up?”

“ _I need your help._ ” His voice sounded shaken and she was immediately on alert.

“Of course.” She said instantly. As far as Felicity was concerned, the detective had an unlimited supply of favors from her. “What do you need?”

“ _Come to Laurels apartment. I’ll text you the address and brief you when you get here.”_ Lance hung up the phone without waiting for a response.

Felicity quickly gathered up her tablet and taser, shoving them into the backpack that held some of her other equipment. She didn’t know why he was telling her to go to Laurel’s apartment, but it couldn’t be good. Especially since Laurel was prosecuting Martin Somers. Ace trailed after her, and she signaled him to sit. He did, and she scratched behind his ears.

“You gotta stay here, buddy. I’ll be back soon.” Felicity told him, then rushed out the door.

She arrived at Laurel’s apartment way sooner than traffic laws actually allowed. But Felicity didn’t care about breaking them—she would just hack into the DMV later and delete any red light tickets. Felicity parked next to a squad car that police tape sectioning it off. There was broken glass on the ground next to it, and what looked like blood on trailing down the door.

That wasn’t good.

Neither were the seven other police vehicles, coroners van and the singular ambulance.

Felicity hopped out of her car, walking towards where officers were guarding the entrance of the building. They took one look at her pink and blonde hair, ripped jeans and combat boots and waved her through.

“Guess Lance told them I was coming,” She muttered under breath, bounding up the steps and moving into the lobby. Felicity made her way to the elevators and pressed the button repeatedly as if that would get it to open faster.

When she arrived on Laurel’s floor, the first thing she saw was someone being zipped into a body bag. Her heart sped up. Felicity walked further down, until she caught sight of Lance holding his daughter in his arms. Laurel had mascara tear tracks running down her face, but she looked mostly okay. Not wanting to interrupt, Felicity hung back to wait until they were done.

“Felicity Smoak?” A somewhat familiar voice said.

She whirled around and saw the last person she expected to see. Felicity smiled despite the grim circumstance. “John Diggle?”

The large man nodded, matching her smile. Then she noticed the bloody bandage on his hand.

“Are you okay?” Felicity asked, stepping closer. “What happened? And what are you doing here? Last time I saw you, you were babysitting some coked up trust fund brat.” She grinned a little as she recalled their first meeting.

_**_

_Flashback: Starling City, Almost eight months ago_

_Felicity pulled the too short dress down for what felt like the fifteenth time since she joined the line of other people waiting to get into Poison. The nightclub was jam packed on a Saturday night, full of partygoers ready to drown their sorrows in booze and a mass of sweaty bodies._

_It wasn’t her ideal way to spend a night, but duty calls._

_The case she was working was simple. Find Josh Packer, get a picture of him having a little too much fun with his favorite party drug then send said pictures to his brother, Adam. Adam wanted the family company to himself, but their dad was leaning towards Josh to take over and he figured if his dad could see how much ‘fun’ Josh liked to have the company would be his._

_Felicity didn’t agree with the motives, but she did like the pay day. So, she took the job._

_Besides, after she got paid, she was going to send an anonymous tip to the IRS and SEC about some funny looking numbers she found in the company’s financial statements._

_“Seven grand.” She muttered under her breath. “He said he’d pay seven grand. That’s why your doing this. Ignore the cold and the creep who’s eyeing you up like you’re a piece of meat. You got this.”_

_“Next.” The security guard called out, and Felicity took a step forward. She went to hand him the cover charge, but he didn’t take it. “Go on in. I get off at two am. Come find me and maybe you can too.” He winked, looking her up and down suggestively._

_She gritted her teeth, and purposefully elbowed him in kidney as she passed. Felicity grinned as she heard him groan behind her. Hopefully, he’d have a nice bruise. She disappeared into the crowd before he could retaliate. Felicity needed to find her target, and fast. All she wanted to do was to go home and lay in bed._

_Pulling out her cell phone, she checked the security feeds of the club that’d she hacked into earlier. Unfortunately, there weren’t camera’s inside the VIP lounge area, where Josh liked to hangout, but there was one aimed at the door. It looked like Josh hadn’t left, if his large bodyguard still standing at attention at the entrance was any indication. The bodyguard, John Diggle her research told her, wouldn’t be an issue._

_She had a plan._

_Felicity made her way to the bar, catching the bartenders attention easily._

_“One tequila shot.” She said, then thought about it for a moment. “Actually, make that two.”_

_He nodded and placed to shots in front of her quickly._

_She handed him a twenty. “Keep the change.”_

_He grinned. “Thanks.”_

_Felicity downed a singular shot in one go, welcoming the burn of liquid fire down her throat. Hopefully, that would make being in the club a little more bearable. Looking side to side, she checked to make sure no one was paying her any attention then dipped her fingers into the liquor of the remaining shot and dabbed it onto her neck, wrists, and chest like perfume. Felicity eyed the leftover liquid and decided to say screw it, so she drank the rest. Next, she mussed up her hair._

_Felicity purposefully stumbled to the VIP section, giggling to herself loudly. The body guard saw her and sighed._

_“Miss, you can’t go in.” He held out a hand to her._

_Felicity held up her phone, showing off a fake text from Josh’s number._

_“Josh texted, he said to come up and see him.” She made sure to slur her words as she swayed in her high heels._

_He eyed her. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call you a cab?”_

_Felicity grinned at him. It was genuine. John seemed like a good guy._

_“I’m sure. I can’t wait to see him.” She said truthfully, thinking of her seven thousand dollars and the tech she could buy with it._

_He let out another sigh but opened the door for her. Felicity walked into the room, her eyes immediately finding Josh on the couch. The idiot was passed out with his head tilted back and white powder around his nose. There were other people in the room, but no one paid her much attention besides a quick glance before turning back to their own debauchery. She stalked over to him, clicking on the camera app on her phone. Felicity snapped a couple pictures of him, and she froze when the shutter sound went off. Fuck._

_“Hey!” Someone said loudly. “No cameras!”_

_Time to go. Felicity turned around just in time to see the person who yelled it go get John._

_“Fuck.” She cursed, her eyes searching for another exit. Which she knew was knew was fruitless from her research. There weren’t any other exits. She couldn’t believe she got caught by such a rookie mistake._

_Damn tequila._

_The body guard stalked inside, grabbing her by the arm before she could even attempt an escape. Felicity considered trying to fight him, but she didn’t want to cause a bigger scene. She figured she could talk her way out of it anyways so she stuck her phone in her bra._

_“Come on,” He said, pulling her by the arm out of the room and through the club._

_“It’s not what it looks like?” It sounded more like a question than a statement._

_He ignored her, continuing to drag her along until they were outside where it was quiet._

_“Give me the phone.” Diggle ordered, letting go of her arm. He held out his hand._

_“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that.” She said, a smirk pulling up her bright red lips._

_“Don’t make me take it from you.”_

_“I’d like to see you try.” Felicity snorted._

_“I won’t ask again.” He threatened._

_“Look John,” She tried to reason, “You seem like a good guy. Served in the Army, excellent service record, the whole shebang. Really, you’re a stand up dude. So, I don’t get why you’re here babysitting some rich kid who does a lot a coke. This picture,” Felicity tapped where her phone was in the top of her dress. “Is gonna get me seven grand. He deserves the consequences, and I need the money.”_

_“How the hell do you know my name? Or any of that?” Diggle demanded. “And I don’t care if you need the money, you’re just some paparazzi POS.”_

_“Actually, I’m a private investigator.” She told him, crossing her arms. “Which is why I know what I do about you. Josh’s brother hired me to get a picture of him enjoying the nose candy to piss off their dad so here I am. I know it’s not the nicest thing to do, but a girls gotta eat.” Felicity shrugged._

_Even if this wasn’t the kind of case she normally took, the seven grand was more than convincing. And the fact that she’d remedy her guilty conscience with the email sent to the proper authorities about the corporation’s own personal idea of (illegal) accounting._

_He scrubbed a hand down his face. “What’s your name?”_

_“Felicity Smoak.”_

_His eyebrows shot up. “I’ve heard of you.”_

_“I hope it was all good things.”_

_The look on Diggle’s face wasn’t reassuring._

_“The security company I work for said you’re a P.I. here, and to watch out for you. Apparently, you’re very sneaky and have got some extremely damning pictures of our clients. You’ve gotten past some of their best guys.” He said it like he was impressed. “Me included.”_

_Felicity smirked. “I’m good at what I do.”_

_He seemed like he was contemplating something._

_“Keep your phone.” Diggle told her. “I swore to protect him from physical harm. And I don’t think you qualify.”_

_“Thanks, Diggle.” She tucked her phone back into her clutch._

_“Call me Dig.” He stuck out his hand for her to shake._

_Felicity accepted it._

**

His chuckle pulled her out of the memory.

“I’m fine.” John reassured her. “And I have a new charge. Him.” He gestured to the doorway of Laurels apartment, where lo and behold stood Oliver Queen.

Her first thought was that he was way more attractive now, than the old pictures they kept showing on the news. Oliver was looking at them with a blank expression on his face, but his eyes were watching them keenly. The way he held himself was tense, like he was fully in control of every single muscle and tendon on his body, ready to react at any moment. Felicity would’ve considered that odd, a red flag on anyone else, but he’d just returned back from life on a deserted island.

He had every right to be jumpy.

“Ah. So wrong place, wrong time huh?” Felicity asked Dig. It made sense Oliver was here. It was his ex-girlfriends apartment. She might not have grown up in Starling, but she’d gotten a crash course in all the torrid details of the Starling city elite the past couple years.

The Oliver Queen and Laurel Lance ‘love’ story was infamous. The gossip sites and news channels had been discussing them like crazy again since he’d shown up alive.

“Or right place, right time.” Diggle shrugged. “Depends on how you look at it.”

“It was the right place.” Lance said, walking over to them with Laurel trailing behind him. He shook Diggle’s hand. “Thank you for saving my daughters life.”

“It’s my job.” He answered simply.

“No,” The detective shook his head, before glaring at Oliver over the bodyguards shoulder. “Your job is to protect him. Not that he deserves it.”

“Hey,” Felicity interjected. “Let’s play nice.” She knew that Lance had his own complicated history with Oliver Queen, but she took one look at the guy and knew he wasn’t the same as he used to be. What little showed in his eyes proved it. They were empty, haunted even. He was obviously traumatized, and probably suffering from some major PTSD.

Felicity didn’t think it was right to add onto that suffering.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Laurel asked, wiping her eyes and giving her a scrutinizing look.

“Felicity Smoak, Private Investigator.” She held out her hand to shake and Laurel just stared at it, so Felicity lowered her hand. “Okay then.”

“I’ve heard of you.” Laurel said abruptly. “Some of my clients at CNRI were yours too.”

The way she said it wasn’t in comradery. It was in judgement. Felicity couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Lawyers always had this annoying sense of self-righteousness, which led them to think P.I.’s weren’t properly upholding the law and because of that they looked down on her field of work. It was irritating because the criminal justice system they so believed in, wasn’t exactly ‘just’ either.

“Quentin, why did you call me here?” Felicity questioned the man, ignoring Laurel’s stare and her surprise at the use of the Detectives first name.

Lance gently took her arm and pulled her a few steps away from John and Laurel so they couldn’t overhear. It put them closer to Oliver, and Felicity’s Spidey Sense was tingling. It was telling her that he was still watching, and most definitely listening to their conversation. 

“Laurel’s been working on the trial for Martin Somers. He sent Triad goons, including China White, here to shut her up.” Lance said gruffly, before leveling her with a pleading look. “I need your help to find China White and Martin Somers. He’s going to disappear after this, and I can’t let that happen. And I know you can find him and find definitive proof to lock him away for good. If not, Laurel’s good as dead.”

“Alright.” Felicity’s eyebrows rose of their own volition. “China White though? She’s a pretty heavy hitter. How the hell did Laurel and Oliver stay alive?”

“Mr. Diggle came in, shot the Triad members she brought with her then fought her off himself.” He shuffled his feet then jerked his head to Oliver. “Guess he helped too. Threw a knife at her. It scared her off.”

Surprised was an understatement of what Felicity felt. China White was a grade A badass and even with John’s Army training, she doubted even he could take out the woman.

Not too mention, Oliver Queen throwing a knife with enough accuracy to scare off a literal assassin?

Felicity looked over her shoulder and her eyes met the man in question. His face was still blank, showing nothing. But his eyes were curious, guarded even. There was something intense in them that made her want to stare longer to figure out what it was, while it also made her want to look away in avoidance. She chose the latter option. Felicity turned back to Lance.

“Of course I’m going to help you,” Felicity started, a smirk on her lips. “But weren’t you just calling what I do a schtick? What changed your mind?”

“You get results.” He admitted begrudgingly, then pointed his index finger at her like a parent does to a small child when telling them ‘no.’ “When you find out where they are, you call me immediately. Don’t you dare go charging in with your taser and your little dog, expecting to handle it yourself. Do I make myself clear?”

Felicity resisted the urge to make a Wizard of Oz reference.

“Crystal.” She confirmed. “But Ace isn’t exactly little, and my taser hasn’t failed me yet.”

“Yeah, well I’m not taking that chance. You call me.”

“Got it.” Felicity patted him on the shoulder. She glanced around all the forensic tech’s and officers swarming the area. “I’m gonna go work on this now. You know cops give me the heebie jeebies.”

“Only people who break the law say things like that.” Lance retorted, a small smile on his lips and amusement in his tone. “Have you committed any crimes recently?”

“Detective,” Felicity gasped in mock scandal. “You know the saying, a lady doesn’t commit crime and tell.”

He chuckled. “Get out of here then. Call me when you find something.”

“You got it.”

**

Felicity found a lot of somethings after a couple hours of research. Somers was definitely hiding in his warehouse on the water where he received his not so legal shipments to smuggle things in and out of Starling. The latter part of that was just an educated guess. None of the illegal records were online, but she had feeling he had paper ledgers and that’s what he was gathering up before skipping town. She looked at the camera feeds she’d hacked into. There weren’t cameras inside the warehouse, only the outside.

Somers car was in the parking lot, along with a bunch of armed men. She assumed it was his security. Felicity squinted at the screen. It didn’t look like Triad members. Maybe they’d abandoned him. A shadow in the corner of the screen caught her attention.

“No fracking way.” She said, loudly. Felicity grabbed her phone and dialed Lance’s number. He answered on the first ring.

“ _What?”_ Lance snapped.

“First off, I don’t appreciate the attitude. But second, I found Somers. He’s at Somers Imports, which is his warehouse at the wharf. No sign of the Triad. Well, yet. And you’ll never guess who else is there?”

“ _Sorry, kid. I was in the middle of something_.” His tone was apologetic, and she heard a scoff in the background that sounded like Laurel. Oops. She must’ve interrupted an argument. “ _Who else is there?_ ”

“The Hood.” Felicity answered excitedly.

Lance cursed. “ _Where are you_?”

“My office.”

“ _Stay there. I’m going to the warehouse and brining half the force with me._ ”

“How far out are you?”

“ _At least forty-five minutes.”_

“Good luck.” She said, then hung up the phone.

The Hood wasn’t moving, he was perched on top of an empty shipping container observing the men like he was making a game plan. Felicity didn’t think Lance had forty-five minutes. The archer was going to attack before then. As much as she thought the Hood wasn’t the psychopath Lance thought he was, she also had a feeling Somers might not make it out alive. They needed either his confession, or hard proof. Like his ledgers. Which he could destroy as soon as the vigilante attacked.

Not to mention, half the SCPD was on their way and she felt the need to warn the archer. Felicity might not have needed rescuing from Turner the other night, but the Hood still helped her. And she didn’t like owing debts.

She glanced at her car keys.

Felicity was only fifteen minutes out from the warehouse thanks to her office’s location in the Glades.

And maybe when warning him, she’d be able to get a look under his hood. Felicity eyed her back pack that held the supplies she’d need.

“Ace!” Felicity called out, standing from her desk and grabbing her keys. Her canine partner bounded up to her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. “Hope you’re ready because I’m about to do something really stupid.”

**

Felicity parked a block away from the warehouse. Her fingers drummed against her steering wheel as she looked at Ace.

“There’s two ways we can do this,” She told him, “Either they never see us, or they only see us.”

Uncle Jack had taught her there were two ways to run a con. The mark has no idea they’re even a part of it, or the con is the only thing they can focus on. And Felicity didn’t think she could sneak past all of the armed guards without notice.

Maybe if she was alone, but she had her loyal companion for a partner. He couldn’t walk as quietly as she could, and there was no way she was risking leaving him behind. Felicity might need him as back up.

Then there was the issue of the Hood still perched up on a shipping container, watching the guards.

Felicity knew he could attack at any moment. She wasn’t sure why he was there, but he was. Which made it just another variable to consider. As soon as he dropped down and engaged, all element of surprise would be gone for her. Guards would be on high alert and they might just shoot first, ask questions later. But if she made her presence known to the guards before everything devolved into chaos, she could probably avoid a gunshot wound.

Plus, Felicity had a feeling the Hood would watch her back too if things got dicey. He’d already tried to save her once when she didn’t need it, so if she actually did need rescuing, she knew he’d help.

She checked her phone, the camera feeds still running on the screen. She made sure the bow and arrow wielding man was still there.

He was.

Felicity took a deep breath to ready herself.

**

The archer watched as a petite woman with backpack and a ponytail of pink and blonde hair waltzed up to the two armed guards. His hands tightened on the bow. He’d been waiting for the right moment to strike, observing the patrols to pick the best time, and her presence screwed it all up.

What the hell was she doing here?

“Excuse me,” Felicity called out to the guards, her voice frantic, “Have you seen a German Shepard dog around here? He ran off and I can’t find him anywhere.” She held up a leash.

“No.” The guard answered, eyeing her in a way that the hooded man didn’t like. “We haven’t. But this is a restricted area, you need to leave.”

“Oh,” She sounded surprised like she had just at that moment noticed large guns the two guards were wielding. The archer thought she was convincing liar. He had no doubt Felicity knew exactly what she was walking into. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. But you’re sure you haven’t seen him? I have a tracker in him, and I could’ve sworn my phone told me he wandered this way.” Felicity glanced down at her phone, typing away. She lifted the screen to show the guard. “It says he ran inside the building.”

He squinted at the screen, then shared a look with the other guard who nodded. They both wore smirks on their faces that Felicity seemed oblivious too.

“Tell you what,” The first guard said, leering at her. “I’ll take you inside to look around. We’ll find your little dog.”

“Thank you so much!” Felicity exclaimed, smiling at him and seemingly completely unaware of his true intentions. “Seriously, you’re the best.”

The guard grinned, opening the door and gesturing for her to go inside.

The archer wasn’t going to let that happen.

Oliver dropped down from his perch, firing an arrow in the shoulder of the guard leading her into the warehouse. The man screamed and dropped to the floor, losing consciousness soon after. He took aim at the second guard who attempted to raise his weapon, but before he could fire, Felicity whipped out a taser from her backpack and put it against his neck. The man went down instantly, out cold. 

“I was wondering when you were gonna come out to play.” Felicity said conversationally, like she didn’t just tase a man unconscious or escape certain bodily harm. She brought the fingers of her free hand to her lips and let out a whistle. Her dog came bounding up. He growled at the archer, taking his place next to Felicity. “Also, I think this makes us even.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Oliver growled.

“Yeah, well part of the reason I came is to warn you that half of the SCPD is on their way. You have about,” She glanced at her phone, “Twenty minutes until they’re here. So really you’re the one who shouldn’t be here.”

“Martin Somers is inside.”

“I know. That’s the second reason I’m here. I owe someone a favor and I need his ledgers or a confession to repay it.” She tilted her head to the side. “Question is, why are you here?”

He raised his bow. “To get justice.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow.

“Can you ‘get justice,’” She deepened her voice like she was trying to mimic his modulator, “without seriously maiming or killing him?”

“Yes.” Oliver ground out. “I only kill if I have too.”

“Then lead the way, Robin Hood.” Felicity grinned.

“I’m not Robin Hood,” He muttered, but didn’t move. “You’re not coming with me.”

“Like hell I’m not! I was going to do this with or without you. I had a whole plan if you were going to keep hiding.”

“Oh? If your plan involved getting seriously hurt then killed in the fastest way possible, then great job.” Oliver said sarcastically, glaring at her. He knew she couldn’t see it, not with the way his hood was pulled down and the darkness around them. But he was aggravated and needed to channel it somehow.

“I’m not an idiot.” She scoffed. “I know what he was thinking and as soon as he brought me inside, I was going to take him out then come back and deal with Thing Two, get Ace and find Somers.”

He shook his head.

Oliver swore she had a death wish. Or just a knack for finding trouble.

“You’re not going in there. Stay put.” He pushed past her to go inside, when her dog let out a loud growl. He froze, not wanting to provoke the large animal.

“Ace disagrees.” She said, a light threat in her tone. “So do I. You’re not the boss of me and now you have seventeen minutes until the SCPD arrives. You’re wasting time, Robin Hood.”

With an irritated huff, he spoke between clenched teeth. “Stay behind me the entire time. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Rodger that.”

They made their way through the hallways, Oliver taking out guards easily as they went. He was surprised that she didn’t even flinch at the gunshots, arrows firing, or the violence. Neither did her dog. Yet another intriguing thing about her. They finally cleared the warehouse, all the guards incapacitated. But at least they were left alive.

For some reason, Oliver couldn’t bring himself to kill any of them in front of her, even when it was warranted multiple times throughout the fight. Felicity tugged on the back of his jacket and he turned, looking down at her. She pointed to a door at the end of wall, ‘Office’ written on a placard. He nodded and they crept silently to it. She grabbed the handle, stepping to the side.

She mouthed ‘ready?’ to him. Oliver nocked an arrow in response, and she swung the door open.

“Clear.” He said, frustrated. The office was empty, save for a desk with a broken computer and shredded papers strewn across it. “He’s gone.”

“Not exactly.” Felicity grinned, moving around him towards the desk. There was suit jacket on the back of the chair, the initials ‘MS’ embroidered on the tag. She grabbed the jacket and held it out to Ace.

“Find him.” She instructed the dog. He sniffed at the jacket, then lowered his head to the ground smelling the floor. Ace barked excitedly, looking at his handler. “Good boy. Go.”

The dog took off and they sprinted after him. He led them through the back entrance, and to the next abandoned warehouse. Ace stopped right in front of its entrance, siting on his haunches. The door was no longer there, broken off the hinges and laying propped up against the wall. 

“He’s in there.” Felicity whispered from behind him.

“You won’t stay out here either, will you?” Oliver sighed in resignation, already knowing her answer. But he at least had to try.

“Nope.”

“Don’t say a single word. I do all of the talking. Understand?” Oliver asked, not looking back at her, his focus on the semi darkness in front him. The only light inside was the moon streaming through the broken slats of the roof.

“Sir, yes sir.” Felicity replied sarcastically, and he knew it was the best he was going to get.

He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. It was cluttered with trash and old, forgotten wooden crates. Oliver spotted Somers quickly. The criminal was half crouched behind one of the crates, but his perfectly shined shoes were reflecting the moon light. Oliver stalked forwards, aiming at the man.

“Martin Somers! You have failed this city!” He snarled menacingly. It was undercut by the sound of Felicity letting out a giggle behind him.

Somers tried to take off. But Felicity was quicker.

“Ace, get the bad man!” She ordered, and the dog rushed forwards latching onto Somers arm and bringing him to the ground with the force of it. Somers screamed, and Ace let go. The dog changed positions, placing two paws on Somers chest. With the large dog, and an arrow pointed at him, Somers was stuck. Ace growled in his face, saliva dripping from his mouth. Felicity casually sauntered over to them. He followed after her.

“My canine partner wants to know what you did with your little black book, or for you to admit you had Vincent Nocenti killed. But we’re not picky so we’ll take either one.” She held her phone up, pressing record on her phone. “Smile.”

“I can’t! The Triad will kill me.” Somers cried out, attempting to move but Ace snapped at him. Aggravated that the entire exchange was getting out of his control, Oliver stepped forwards. He fired an arrow directly above Somers head. “Oh God! No! No!”

“He can’t help you now.” Oliver said ominously, ignoring the amused look Felicity sent him. “The Triad is the least of your concerns. Tell me, or the next one goes through your eye.”

“Alright, alright,” Somers stammered out, “It wasn’t me who killed Nocenti. It was the Triad.”

Oliver drew back his bow. “On who’s orders?”

“I, uh,” He hesitated, but before Oliver could make good on his threat Ace growled again successfully terrifying Somers. “Alright! It was on my orders. Alright? Nocenti said he was gonna testify against me. So I had him killed.” Somers looked over Oliver shoulder at something behind him, relief flashing in his eyes.

“ _Move away from him.”_ A female voice in Mandarin demanded.

China White.

“ _Make me._ ” Oliver answered in the same language.

“Oh, frack.” Felicity whispered.

He didn’t have time to respond. China White moved forwards to attack and soon they were trading fists, blow for blow.

“Can I help?” Felicity called out.

“Stay back!” He yelled, blocking a kick to his head and doling out one of his own.

“Fine, get stabbed then by the assassin then.” She muttered.

Despite the situation, he resisted the urge to smile. The feeling shocked him enough to cause him to falter in his movements and his opponent landed a blow to his kidney. He gritted his teeth and swung out, catching her across the face. She stumbled back.

The sound of sirens filled the air.

“This is the police! Drop your weapons, you are surrounded.” Someone called out over the loud speaker. He recognized it as Detective Lances voice. 

China White perked her head up at the noise, then took off before they could finish the fight.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Felicity breathed out. “The Calvary is here. I thought I was about to have to use Mr. Zappy on a knife wielding assassin. I mean, my Uncle would think that’s hilarious… well after he got done lecturing me about knowing when to cut my losses but that’s not the point. Still. This so beats his Copenhagen story. I can’t wait to show him up at Thanksgiving.” She babbled, her eyes bright with excitement.

Oliver stared at her, a smile finally breaking across his face.

“You’re… remarkable.” He settled on. Oliver meant it. He’d never met anybody quite like her.

“Thanks?” She said it as a question, but her cheeks turned pink. Felicity glanced over her shoulder, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. “I’d leave now if I were you. Ace and I can handle Somers.”

He knew she’d be fine with Lance and the rest of the SCPD approaching. But she didn’t know he was aware of her own connection to Lance.

“You might want to leave too. Cops don’t like vigilantism.” Oliver advised, preparing to leave.

She grinned mischievously at him.

“Me a vigilante?” Felicity shook her head, a shaken, wide-eyed look taking over her playful expression. “Never. I was just looking for my lost dog and I stumbled in on the Hood taking down Martin Somers. I tried to record it, but in my terror, my finger covered the camera and I only got the audio part of the confession.” There was nothing but innocence in her tone.

She tapped into her screen and showed him the black video. Only the audio played through.

_‘….Alright! It was on my orders. Alright? Nocenti said he was gonna testify against me. So I had him killed…’_

It was the perfect cover, and without video it was harder to prove she’d been complicit in the act of vigilantism. Not too mention, with just the audio, no one would be able to see the confession was coerced.

“Who _are_ you?” Oliver asked, studying her like it was the first time he was truly seeing her.

But he felt like it was.

“Felicity Smoak.” She answered a smirk pulling on her lips, the innocent wide-eyed look from before gone. “Who are you?”

“Freeze!” Lance yelled, his gun drawn. “Move, and you’re dead.”

Felicity wiggled her fingers, mouthing ‘bye’ at him. He nodded once, before shooting a grappling arrow into the rafters.

“Detective, thank goodness you’re here.” He heard Felicity say dramatically as he shot up into the roof. “It was the craziest thing…” 

Oliver’s lips twitched up into another smile as he made his escape.


	3. Lone Gunman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity is brought a laptop that raises a lot of questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter :)   
> Gonna try to post weekly with the chapters i already have written until i run out of those and then we'll see hahah :)
> 
> Any comments or kudos would be amazing :)

Felicity walked into the police station, a box of donuts and a cardboard carrier of coffee in hand. She seriously disliked being at the precinct but Lance was still pissed at her for the whole disobeying his direct commands and doing the exact opposite of what he said while also getting more involved with the Hood debacle. It didn’t help that she lied to his face about some of what happened to keep herself from getting in trouble, and Lance knew it, but couldn’t say anything without arresting her. Something Felicity knew he didn’t want to do. So, she was trying to make it up to him.

This was her third time dropping by with coffee and donuts, and she hoped it’d be enough for him to finally forgive her.

She needed her source at the SCPD back.

Okay, and _maybe_ Felicity felt bad about making him mad and lying to him.

She truly liked the crotchety old detective.

Felicity stopped in front of the officer at the front desk, flashing him a smile.

“Hi, Officer Smith. I’m here to see Lance.”

“He’s at his desk.” He chuckled. “But you know the price for me to keep letting you in here.”

“Right.” She opened the box and held it out to him. “Take your pick.”

He selected a traditional glazed donut. “Pleasure doing business with you. And remember--,”

“—Don’t tell Lance you’re the one who keeps letting me in.” Felicity finished.

“Exactly.”

She made her way through the hallway and pressed the elevator button, waiting on the doors to open. Felicity stepped inside, using her elbow to press the floor where Lance on since her hands were full. The doors started to close.

“Hold the door, please!” A female voice called out. Felicity stuck her foot in between the doors, preventing them from closing. They opened back up and a very pretty African American woman stepped inside. She wore a business suit, sensible shoes and a shiny badge on her hip. She looked like one of the model-like cops on TV shows. “Thanks.” The woman said.

“No problem.” Felicity answered, smiling.

She observed Felicity, her eyes lingering on the pink strands of her hair. “You’re Felicity Smoak.”

“Uh, yes?” Felicity agreed, a little annoyed that people kept recognizing her. Maybe she needed to dye her hair again. She snorted. That probably wouldn’t change anything. She pretty infamous around Starling, pink hair or not.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude,” The lady cop said with an apologetic smile. “I’m Detective Mckenna Hall. I work with Detective Lance sometimes, and he’s told me about you.”

“Oh. No worries. But I hope it was all good things?” She said optimistically.

Mckenna laughed. “Well, they’re all very interesting things… Is it true that one time you took down a perp with nothing but a can of hairspray and a lighter?”

“Ah, yes,” Felicity nodded sagely, “That’s called the Showgirl Flamethrower.” She paused. “Or Vegas Showgirl Flamethrower. But that’s just a mouthful.”

“That’s amazing.” Detective Hall grinned. “And did you really hack into the police commissioner’s smart car and lock him in it while he was…” She lowered her voice, despite it being only the two of them in the elevator, “ _doing_ it with his secretary?”

“First off, he’s a cop so he should know having sex in public is illegal.” Felicity started, “Second, I maintain that I got lucky his car had that very well-timed glitch. And his wife, now ex-wife, paid me to do it. She wanted proof of the affair. Not my fault he has a voyeurism kink and can’t have sex with his mistress in a shady hotel room like the other politicians in this city.”

“I heard he had to call someone on the SCPD to come get them out of the car.”

“He should’ve broken the window.” Felicity said, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. “Or you know, not have sex with someone who isn’t his wife in public?”

Mckenna stared at her in something akin to awe. “You’re awesome.”

She laughed. “He tried to have me arrested later for that, you know.”

“No way.”

“Yes way. But he couldn’t get any legal grounds to do it. It was a software bug that locked him in, not me.” Felicity said innocently. She wasn’t about to admit to anything. “And I have the legal right to photograph whoever I want on public property.”

“Right. Of course.” Mckenna agreed, grinning.

The doors opened, and they both stepped out into the sea of desks.

“It was really great to meet you, Felicity.” The detective said. “If you ever need any help with anything, just stop by and I’ll see what I can do.”

Felicity smiled at her. “Same goes for you.”

She meant it. The other woman seemed nice. Felicity made her way to Lance’s desk, stopping in front of it. He was 00focused on a file in his hands, and he didn’t notice her.

“Hello Detective!” She greeted cheerfully, and at the same time she dropped the box of donuts on his desk.

Lance jumped and glared at her. “Jesus, kid. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Nice. He called her kid. Nicknames meant she was getting back in his good graces.

“Sorry, Quentin,” Felicity apologized, handing him the coffee she brought. “Coffee?”

“Thanks.” He took it from her, setting down the file and opening the box. Lance inspected the donuts inside. “No jelly filled today?”

“Frack. I told them to put a couple in there, but I guess they didn’t.”

Lance chuckled, grabbing a glazed donut. “Don’t worry about it. You’re gonna make me fat if you keep bringing me these anyways.”

“I can stop if that means you’ll forgive me?” Felicity offered hopefully, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

“You’re forgiven.” He said, eyeing her sternly. “But no more messing with the Hood, alright?”

Felicity wasn’t about to make promises she couldn’t keep. Uncle Jack told her never con an honest man. Lying was close enough to conning, and Lance was as honest as they came.

“You know trouble has a way of finding me.” She said instead. That was the truth.

“No, kid, _you_ find trouble.” Lance snorted. He said it with humor, so she figured he wasn’t upset by her non-answer.

“We find each other.” Felicity conceded, then pointed at him accusingly, “By the way, what are you telling people about me? I shared an elevator with a Mckenna Hall on my way up here, and she had some interesting things to say.”

“You’re pretty notorious around here.” He admitted, giving her a curious look. “Makes me wonder the kind of reputation you got back in Vegas.”

“The kind my Uncle Jack is proud of.” Felicity smirked.

“I have a feeling if I met this Uncle, I’d be inclined to arrest him.”

“Probably.” Felicity agreed, laughing. “But you’d never catch him.”

“Well, if you’re anything to judge off, I don’t doubt that.”

“So, what have you been up to today?” She asked, glancing at the folder he’d shut when she walked up.

“None ya.” He answered sternly.

Felicity pouted. “C’mon, anything interesting?”

Hesitation crossed his face before being replaced with resignation.

“I’m only telling you this because I need to someone to bounce ideas off.” Lance sighed, heavily. “James Holder was shot and killed this morning at the top of his penthouse suite. We found bullet casings and so far, recovered at least one arrow. Hilton thinks the Hood did it, but I’m not convinced.”

“The Hood doesn’t use guns.” Felicity said, frowning. “He was there if you found arrows, but someone else was too. Were you able to get anything from the bullets?”

“I said the same thing. But no, unfortunately. Holder fell into the pool when he was shot, and the water stripped any physical evidence from them. All we know was that it was fired by a long range rifle. We think there’s more bullets to find but we weren’t able to recover any.”

“How long range?” Felicity asked, her curiosity piqued. If the Hood was fighting with someone else in Starling, she wanted to know who. So far, the Hood had proved dangerous, but he wasn’t a bad guy, and she didn’t like the thought of another player in town.

“200 yards.”

“Damn.”

“We’re waiting on Holder’s blood work now.”

Felicity was about to speak again, when Lance’s partner Detective Hilton approached.

“Hey,” He greeted, file in hand, “Am I interrupting?” Hilton looked between the two of them.

“It’s fine.” Lance said dismissively, “That the bloodwork?”

Hilton hesitated, and Felicity grinned at him.

“Don’t worry Detective Hilton, Quentin already filled me in.”

Hilton shot Lance an annoyed look but handed him the file. “His blood contained high concentration of Strychnos toxifera.”

“What?” Lance asked, confusion on his face.

“Curare.” Felicity told him, surprised. “It’s a rare poison.”

Hilton eyed her cautiously and she smiled innocently in return, “Ms. Smoak is right. It’s poison.”

“Okay,” Lance ran a hand through his already ruffled hair. “So, now we switch from arrows to poisoned bullets shot from long range? You really think the Hood shot him from 200 yards, then went to the building, attacked the guards and left an arrow? For what? I’m not buying it.”

“We still found arrows on the scene, Lance.” Hilton said defensively. “Solid evidence the Hood was there.”

Lance stood up suddenly, pushing the box of donuts away from him. Felicity looked at him in surprise, as did his partner.

“Where are you going?” Hilton asked.

“To find my own evidence.”

“Oh,” Felicity said excitedly, “Can I come?”

“Absolutely not.” The two detectives answered at the same time.

“Rude.” She muttered.

**

Two days later, and Felicity hadn’t talked to Lance since the station. She assumed he was busy with the murder investigation of James Holder. She sighed cozily, bundled up in a blanket on her couch with Ace right next to her.

“I want some wine.” Felicity told her canine partner and turned on the TV.

He stared at her, his ears perking up.

“Don’t give me that look. I deserve it.” She defended, looking towards her kitchen where the wine was, trying to decide if she wanted to get up. The sound of the news on her TV broke her from consideration.

“… _Carl Rasmussen was found shot and killed in his home earlier this evening. Sources say that the same type of gun was used to murder James Holder just days ago. Is this the start of another vigilante?”_ The anchor said dramatically.

Felicity paused the TV, staring at Rasmussen’s picture. It was from his company employee ID. She studied it, thinking hard.

Why was that name so familiar?

“Rasmussen…Holder…” She mumbled under her breath, thinking out loud. “What do they have in common? Both corporate evil…” Finally, it hit her, and Felicity gasped. “Unidac!”

They were both bidders on the auction of Unidac Industries. She’d done her own research in Unidac because their focus was on alternative energy, and the devices they’d demoed at a recent Tech Expo were pretty amazing. So, when they filed for bankruptcy and were going to be bought by another company, Felicity wanted to know which one.

Queen Consolidated and Merlyn Global were the next top bidders after Rasmussen and Holder’s companies.

“Holy shit.” Felicity grabbed her phone, dialing Lance.

He answered after the third ring. “ _I’m a little busy here, kid. This better be good._ ”

Felicity heard the background noise of voices and cameras clicking. She assumed he was at Rasmussen’s house.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She drawled, “Is me figuring out a major break in your case good enough, or?”

“ _What?_ ” Lance demanded.

“All the people the shooter is targeting are potential buyers for Unidac industries. Have you heard of it?”

Lance cursed. “ _Yeah, I saw an article about it. Walter Steele is a serious competitor, right?”_

“Right. Which means he’s probably next.” Felicity said seriously.

“ _Thanks, kid. I’ll handle it._ ”

“Don’t mention it.” Felicity answered, then thought about it. “Actually, I’ll mention it in the future if I ever need a favor.”

Lance chuckled. “ _Of course you will.”_

He hung up the phone. Felicity stood from her couch, wrapping the blanket around her like a cape.

“Now I really do deserve that wine.”

**

Oliver started down the stairs, fixing his cuff links as he went. He didn’t want to go out with Tommy tonight, but he felt that it was needed. He had to maintain his playboy cover and not raise any suspicions. After his confrontation with the shooter on top of Holder’s rooftop, all he wanted to do was find the son of a bitch who shot him, and then killed Holder. He could still feel the effects of the poisoned curare bullet coursing through him, and his shoulder was throbbing from the gunshot wound, but Oliver knew he had no choice but to go out.

He had to keep up appearances.

Oliver stopped halfway down the stairs, listening to the trickle of voices coming from the sitting room. Oliver recognized his mother’s, Walters and the rough timber of Detective Lance’s voice. Diggle stood in the doorway of the sitting room, his back to Oliver as he watched what was happening inside.

For a brief moment, Oliver considered just sneaking out the front door and not even dealing with whatever Lance came to harass them about. His hatred for the Queen’s was well known, and Oliver wasn’t in the mood for whatever vitriol Lance would spit at him. Oliver made his steps noisy as he walked, alerting his bodyguard to his presence. Diggle looked over his shoulder, observing him coolly.

“What’s going on in there?” Oliver asked, feigning a bored curiosity.

“Why don’t you see for yourself, sir.” Diggle answered, stepping out of the way while also managing to make the formal address as sarcastic as possible.

Oliver smirked. Diggle always said it like that, and Oliver found it amusing. He walked past the bodyguard and into the sitting room. His mother and Walter were sitting on one of the couches while Detective Lance and a man he recognized as Lance’s partner, Detective Hilton, sat on the opposite couch.

“Detectives,” Oliver greeted with a nod of his head, before turning to his mother. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing you need to trouble yourself over, dear.” His mother answered, giving him a soft smile.

“So, the murders of two men aren’t anything to worry about?” Lance snorted, before glaring at her. “Your husband could be next and neither of you seem to care. I wonder why that is?”

At the word murder, a rare moment of surprise passed through Oliver, but he kept his expression blank.

What was Lance talking about?

“Are you implying something, Detective?” Moira asked sharply.

“Well, only that your husbands looking into buying Unidac and suddenly the competition keeps turning up dead.”

“And I’m sure your veiled accusation had nothing to do with how you feel about my family?” His mother questioned, her tone polite but barbed.

“Unidac is in receivership, Detective.” Walter cut in, “It’s up for auction. So that means there are many prospective buyers. Not just Queen Consolidated. And it hasn’t escaped my attention that you haven’t told us how you came to the conclusion that it’s prospective Unidac buyers being targeted.”

“The SCPD is acting on a tip we received.” Lance answered gruffly.

Moira scoffed. “An anonymous tip? You came into my home to accuse my husband of some nefarious actions all based on a ‘tip.’ Maybe I should give the commissioner a call and discuss with him the way his detectives choose to operate.”

“That’s not necessary, Mrs. Queen.” Detective Hilton said earnestly, “We’re just trying to make the rounds of the interested buyers to give everyone a warning, to help them stay safe.”

“And it wasn’t anonymous. I trust the person who told me explicitly. She hasn’t been wrong before.” Lance said, scowling.

Oliver was finally interested in the conversation. He had a feeling the detective was talking about Felicity Smoak.

“Who is she?” Oliver asked before he could stop himself. Everyone’s eyes landed on him. He cleared his throat. “I mean, if you want us to take this threat seriously, shouldn’t we know who it was so we can judge it for ourselves?”

Lance looked at him in distaste. “I think you should take any threat on your step fathers life seriously. But then again, you never did care much about other peoples lives, did you Queen?”

The words were a punch to the gut. A vision of Sara disappearing under the freezing dark waves of the sea, not once, but twice, flashed through his mind. He gritted his teeth, forcing the image away.

“Oliver has a point.” Walter said, a hint of steel in his voice as he defended Oliver. “Who was it?”

Lance looked like he’d rather eat glass than tell, so Hilton did it for him.

“Felicity Smoak. She’s a private investigator in Starling, and a pretty damn good one at that.” Hilton informed them.

Walter’s eyebrow rose in surprise. “Yes, I’ve heard of her. QC tried to recruit her after she graduated MIT.” 

The admission intrigued Oliver. He couldn’t picture the pink-haired and wild-eyed Felicity he’d met while trying to take down a man twice her size working in a corporate office. It seemed strange to him. He was even more captivated by the fact that she went to MIT.

Who exactly was she? And what made an MIT graduate decide to become a private investigator?

“I’m sure you got real far with that.” Lance said dryly, but Oliver heard the fondness in his voice.

“No, we didn’t.” Walter admitted.

“Alright,” His mother said a note of finality in her voice. She sat up straighter and glanced between the two detectives, “Consider us warned. Mr. Diggle is our Head of Security and I’m sure he will do his utmost best to ensure our safety. Thank you for stopping by.”

The dismissal was clear.

**

Oliver sat in the Big Belly Burger booth across from Tommy. His jaw still throbbed where he let himself get punched by Max Fuller, but he couldn’t risk revealing his fighting skills. Besides, he’d had worse injuries.

Oliver listened as Tommy explained his relationship with Laurel. While it hurt to hear that Tommy was so convinced Oliver would be pissed, Oliver didn’t for a second blame Tommy or Laurel for their decisions. He had no claim on Laurel, not after the way he’d treated her, and Tommy was a good man. Laurel deserved someone good. So did Tommy.

“Tommy,” Oliver said, a reassuring smile that was only a little fake pulling up his lips. “I was dead. It’s okay.”

“No, man,” Tommy shook his head, looking down at the table. “You were with Laurel. I shouldn’t of… it broke the Bro Code. Dead or not, you’re my friend and me being with Laurel violated that friendship in about 50 different ways.”

Oliver sighed. “Thank you. But it’s really okay.”

He meant it. Laurel might’ve been what helped him get through the past five years, or at least her picture did. And what it represented. That picture grounded him. It reminded him of a home and future beyond the death and destruction he’d caused and experienced. It helped him to remember his family, and that he wasn’t always a monster. It hurt as much as it helped get him through the island and everything after it.

It also reminded him that he wasn’t the Ollie Queen who dated Laurel Lance before he got on the Gambit. He wasn’t the same man, and if Laurel had found her happiness in someone else, then he wasn’t going to stop her. He loved Tommy and he still cared about Laurel, and he only wanted what was best for them both. Oliver knew that wasn’t him. Not while he was the Hood.

Maybe after he finished his crusade and crossed all the names off the List, he could start to live his life again.

But not yet. Not now. The mission came first.

“You’re sure?”

Oliver was spared from having to answer yet again by the sound of chimes, announcing another patron. He had his back to the door, which wasn’t his preference, but Tommy had sat facing it and he couldn’t ask him to move without it his friend wondering why. Or his body guard, who seemed to be getting progressively more suspicious of him. Diggle stood at the counter, talking to a waitress he apparently knew. Oliver’s hard earned instincts demanded he see who it was, to determine if they were a threat. It was late enough for it to be strange for others to be out. Especially in the Glades. Oliver turned his head slightly, completely thrown off guard by the person walking in.

Felicity Smoak.

Her hair was up in a bun and she was wearing casual clothes, leggings and a MIT sweatshirt. She had a back pack slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face. He noticed she wasn’t wearing makeup. There were no vibrant colors painting her lips, like the last times he’d seen her, but it didn’t detract anything from her appearance. Felicity was still just as bright without make up. The smile on her face was all she needed to make her radiant.

Oliver was a man, and he wasn’t blind. He could admit she was attractive, but when she smiled, like she was now, she was gorgeous. She lit up the room.

“Hi, Carly.” Felicity grinned, then looked at John in surprise. “What’re you doing here, John?”

“Hi, Felicity. And John is Andy’s Uncle. And also my ex brother-in-law.” Carly told her, smiling. She moved back behind the counter. “You want your usual?”

“Yes please. Plus an extra burger for Ace, sans bun. He gave me sad eyes when I left my apartment so now I feel bad.” Felicity said, hopping up on the bar stool.

“So, you somehow knew my service record but not about Carly?” John asked, a teasing smile on his face as he sat down on the bar stool next to her. Oliver didn’t understand how she knew about that in the first place, but he figured it had something to do with their first meeting based on what he overheard in Laurels apartment.

He watched as Felicity gave his body guard a serious look.

“Family is private. That’s not my place to look unless I’m asked, or if it’s a case.” She answered, her voice honest. “What’re you doing here anyways? Got the night off from babysitting?”

“Nope,” John shook his head and pointed to where Oliver and Tommy sat. “Still on duty. My client decided to get into a fight at Poison.”

Felicity looked at the two of them, surprise on her face like she’d just noticed they were there. Her eyes lingered on Oliver. They made eye contact but she looked away quickly, turning back to Diggle.

“Do you think they heard me call you a babysitter?” She said, her voice lowered but Oliver could still hear her.

His lips almost twitched into a smile.

“We definitely heard.” Tommy chimed in, an easy grin on his face.

Her cheeks colored, and she waved apologetically from the counter. “My bad.”

Tommy slid out of the booth, walking towards her. Oliver followed after his friend. He wasn’t sure what to say to her. They’d talked before, of course. But she didn’t know that. He was the Hood then, not Oliver Queen.

“Tommy Merlyn.” He stuck out his hand, introducing himself as charmingly as ever. “And who might you be?”

She shook his hand. “Felicity Smoak.”

“Nice to meet you, Felicity,” Tommy smiled, then gestured to Oliver. “This big lug is my best friend.”

“I know who you are.” She blurted out, meeting Oliver’s eyes. He saw her wince. “I mean, you were there the other night at Laurels apartment. And you’re a Queen and that name is famous, or well infamous, in Starling, and the West coast. Plus, you just came back from the dead so that’s been everywhere. Or well, an island so I guess you weren’t really dead. More like a castaway, Tom Hanks style.” Felicity closed her eyes. “Not to remind you of any traumatic experiences or anything… and I’m gonna stop talking now.”

A smile cracked his face, turning his lips up into something real. It wasn’t one of the fake smiles he’d been putting on and hiding behind since he’d returned. And it wasn’t the first time she’d made him smile. With that in mind, he bypassed her babble and stuck out his own hand.

“Felicity Smoak? Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.” He said easily, still smiling.

Tommy watched the interaction with a mix of amusement and curiosity, while Diggle’s eyebrows furrowed. Felicity opened her eyes and peeked out at him from behind her glasses, and when she saw he wasn’t upset at her verbal gaffe, she returned the smile tentatively. She took his hand, and he was momentarily stunned by how small and soft it felt in his own much larger and rougher hand. Oliver knew how tough she was, he’d watched it first hand when she repeatedly walked headfirst into danger without looking back, but the fact that she was so soft, and so delicate under his touch, it almost felt like contradiction to everything he’d seen from her.

Oliver gently shook her hand, releasing it after a moment. Her cheeks were pink, not quite reaching the same color of her hair, but close. Suddenly, she straightened up and a flash of what looked like determination went through her blue eyes. Felicity was about to speak when Tommy beat her to it.

“Hang on,” Tommy said, confusion on his face. “Did you say you saw him the other night at Laurels apartment? You know Laurel?”

“Oh, uh, not really.” Felicity shrugged. “I was doing Quentin a favor after the whole armed assassin debacle.”

“You know about that?” The shock was clear in Tommy’s voice. “Are you a cop?”

Diggle chuckled, and explained. “Felicity is a Private Investigator.”

“That makes more sense.” Tommy accepted, then he grinned at her. “Don’t suppose I could hire you to track down the body guards who punched me in the face earlier so I can get my revenge?”

She laughed. “Nope. No can do.”

“Why not?” His best friend asked, a pleading pout on his face.

Oliver rolled his eyes.

“Because I highly doubt you didn’t deserve it.” Felicity said, teasingly.

Tommy put hand to his chest in mock outrage. “I never deserved to be punched. I’m too handsome.”

“Now I want to punch you.” Oliver snorted.

Felicity eyes flicked to him, amusement shining in them. His phone chose that exact moment to ring, and he pulled it out. His Bratva contact was calling him back with whatever he’d found about the gunman.

“Excuse me, I have a Russian model calling.” He flashed a polite, but fake, typical playboy Ollie Queen smile at them and stepped back to answer. Tommy laughed but Oliver could feel Felicity’s eyes watching him curiously. John was paying close attention as well.

“ _So, I checked out._ ” He mused in Russian, hoping Felicity didn’t speak the language. After what little he did know of her, Oliver wouldn’t be surprised if that was another ability in her bag of tricks.

“ _You did.”_ Alexi responded.

“ _What did you find?”_

“ _The man you seeks name is Floyd Lawton. I have an address, where he stayed the last time he was in Starling City. But that is all.”_

“ _Are you going to make me ask?_ ” Oliver demanded, authority seeping into his voice causing his Russian to thicken and sound more like a growl than anything.

“ _Papp Motel, room 52._ ” Alexi paused. “ _You will leave us out of this, yes? Assuming Mr. Lawton doesn’t kill you first.”_

Oliver hung up the phone, his mind already on the task ahead of him. He stepped back over into the group.

“You speak Russian.” Felicity said, it wasn’t a question but an observation and there was intrigue in her gaze as she studied him.

He knew that look was dangerous. Oliver flashed her an easy grin.

“My housekeeper is Russian. She taught me.” He lied, but he didn’t think she bought it.

“Ah.” Was all Felicity said.

“I’ve got to go,” Oliver told Tommy, then glanced at Diggle. The body guard was regarding him carefully. “Katya wants to meet.” He let a lascivious expression overtake his face.

Tommy laughed, while the considering look left Diggle. But Felicity still had her eyes trained on him. After everything he’d experienced, he wasn’t used to squirming under someone’s gaze, and it was more than a little unnerving. It was like Felicity could see underneath his playboy act, and he didn’t like it. Oliver felt out of control, just like he had at Somers warehouse when she took over the entire mission like the force of nature she was.

“Have fun, man.” Tommy grinned, patting him on the shoulder.

“Where am I dropping you off, _sir_ ,” As always, his body guard said the word with distaste, like it was more of an insult than a respectful title.

“Don’t worry about it, John. I’ll take a cab.”

“I’m your bodyguard. I have to go.”

“I’m officially giving you the rest of the night off,” Oliver informed him, a smirk on his face. “Besides, we both know I’ll just find a way to get away from you.”

Diggle sighed heavily. “You know what? Fine. Whatever, go.”

Oliver nodded goodbye at them, purposefully avoiding Felicity’s watchful eyes and walked out the door.

It was time to end Floyd Lawton’s kill streak in Starling.

**

The next day Felicity sat in her office, a red pen between her lips as she ran updates on her computers. A bell sounded through the office and she jumped. It was the sound of someone pressing the buzzer to be let into her office. She always kept the door locked, having to unlock it for each person stopping by because her office was in the Glades, and she wasn’t stupid. Especially when Ace wasn’t there with her. He was at the groomers getting bathed and pampered today. Felicity pulled up the camera feeds of the front door on her cell phone since her computers were still updating. Her mouth fell open, the pen falling and landing on her desk with a loud clatter.

Oliver Queen stood outside of her door, holding what looked like a laptop and without his body guard.

The last thing she needed was a famous billionaire getting mugged outside of her office. She buzzed him in quickly. Her eyes followed the camera feeds, watching as he made his way down the hall and to her open door. Absently, Felicity picked up the pen and started to chew on it as she set her phone down and waited for him to approach. 

What in the world was he doing here?

Oliver stepped into the office, a polite smile on his face that she immediately read as insincere.

“Hi, Felicity. We met last night?” Oliver said, his head turned slightly in a tilt as if to ask ‘remember?’

“Uh, yeah. I remember. How could I not remember? I mean you’re you. And ‘you’,” She plucked the pen from between her lips and pointed it at him, then waved it in a circle. “Are a lot.” Felicity cringed. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I meant it in a good way… Not that I was hitting on you or anything, I was just saying… you know what, it doesn’t matter. You obviously didn’t come here to listen to me babble, so.” She forced her lips together.

His face had been cleared of expression while she babbled, but Felicity thought she saw the tiniest uplift in the corner of his mouth. Suddenly, she felt a lot better about her runaway mouth, because it was the most genuine she’d seen him look since he stepped into her office.

“I came here because I was hoping you could look into something for me,” Oliver said conversationally, his voice light. He set the laptop he was carrying on her desk. “I found this last night and I thought you might be able to look inside to figure out who it belonged to so I could return it.”

Felicity stared at the laptop in disbelief. She ran a finger around one of the holes in the casing, her bright blue nail polish standing out against the black plastic.

“Are these bullet holes?” She asked incredulously.

“Maybe.” Oliver answered innocently, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I found it on my way home last night.”

“From the models house?” Felicity didn’t know why she said that.

He nodded. “Katya lives in a bad neighborhood.”

Felicity stared at him. He didn’t flinch under her scrutiny, but something told her he was a liar liar pants on fire.

“Russian, and a bad neighborhood where bullet riddled laptops are found? Does she live in Bratva territory or something?” She asked rhetorically, and if it wasn’t for how hard she was studying him, she would’ve missed the slight tensing of his body before he forced himself to relax.

“What’s that?” Oliver sounded confused, but his eyes told another story. They were sharp and guarded.

Felicity didn’t understand him, at all.

And she usually prided herself on being able to read people. The more she saw of him, like last night and even briefly in Laurels apartment, the more her curiosity about him grew. He was clearly hiding something. But then again, maybe she was just reading into it and all he was hiding was massive amounts of PTSD.

If that was the case though, how did he speak Russian and not know who the Bratva was?

Oliver claimed last night he was taught by his housekeeper, but every Russian in Starling knew about the Bratva and she didn’t believe his housekeeper wouldn’t have warned him about the mob who had major ties in the city. If he spoke Russian in the wrong place or said the wrong thing to the wrong person, he’d be screwed. And besides, that was like Russian lesson number one.

It wasn’t syntax or grammar or the Cyrillic alphabet. Nope.

It was, very simply, don’t fuck with the Bratva.

Even she kept her distance from them, unless it was absolutely necessary. Uncle Jack may have connections in Vegas, as did she, with the organized crime there, but that power didn’t extend to Starling. And it definitely didn’t extend to the Bratva.

“So,” Oliver prompted, breaking her out of her thoughts, “Do you think you can do it? I’ll pay you.”

Felicity wanted to say no, and rant about how she doesn’t accept cases from people who she doesn’t think are telling the truth. But she didn’t, because she was extremely intrigued by the man in front of her and wanted to know more. He was a mystery.

And those needed solved.

Plus, Oliver was looking at her with a pleading expression and Felicity didn’t have the heart to tell the recently returned from the dead, and longtime castaway, no.

“I’ll do it.” Felicity agreed, reaching into her desk for her tool kit. The casing was destroyed but hopefully the hard drive was still intact. “Can’t promise anything though.”

“I have confidence in your abilities,” His eyes flicked to the college diplomas on the wall. “Dual masters in cyber security and computer science from MIT. Class of 2009.” He read off, surprising coloring his voice at the last part. Oliver observed her no doubt young appearance. His attention had her cheeks warming, and Felicity focused on the laptop instead of him.

“How old were you when you graduated?” Oliver actually sounded interested. It was nothing like the forced polite tone he started with.

“19.” Felicity said, removing the screws from the casing.

He hummed, so she knew he heard her, but he didn’t say a word. They sat in a semi comfortable silence as she took apart the laptop and retrieved the hard drive. Felicity plugged it into her tablet since her computers weren’t done with their updates. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read through the files.

“Where exactly did you say you found this?” Felicity questioned, her voice firm as she stared him down.

“Why?” Was the non-answer he gave.

“Because this has blueprints of the exchange building.”

“Never heard of it.”

Felicity’s eyes narrowed. “It’s where the Unidac industries auction is scheduled to take place. It’s also a giant building in the middle of downtown Starling that’s been there since before you… disappeared.”

Something resembling recognition flickered across his face.

“So, you have heard of it.” Felicity snarked, then resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Look, I don’t want to get in the middle of some Shakespearian family drama BS. Or corporate sabotage. That always turns out bad for me.”

“What?” Oliver asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Walter Steele marrying your mom? Claudius, Gertrude, Hamlet…” At his blank look she trailed off.

“I didn’t study Shakespeare at any of the four schools I dropped out of.” He said dryly.

“You have to know Walter is a bidder for Unidac,” Felicity gave him an incredulous look, “And a target because Lance told me he already warned him. And you just so happened to find a laptop belonging to one of the guys he’s competing against… Warren Patel.”

“No, I knew that, I was there when Lance told him, but this is just a crazy coincidence.” Oliver said, keeping his voice light and with just the right amount of puzzlement in it.

She didn’t believe him for a second. Felicity had seen tourists in Vegas with better poker faces.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I turn this over to the proper authorities?” Felicity asked, already expecting the answer to be ‘no.’ She didn’t actually want to give the laptop to the police, she’d much rather investigate further herself, but it was a test for him.

Because everything about the situation screamed suspicious.

Oliver studied her carefully, then made a ‘by all means’ gesture with his hands.

“Go right ahead. Whatever will help the SCPD. Like you said, my step father is a target too.”

Felicity’s eyebrows rose.

Okay. She did not expect him to agree.

“Alright,” She said finally, “I’ll drop it off to Detective Lance tonight.”

Oliver smiled at her. She guessed it was meant to be charming and what she imagined was his ‘playboy billionaire’ smile that got him whatever he wanted, but she knew it wasn’t sincere. And that made it lose all of it’s intended effect.

“Thank you for all your help, Felicity.” Oliver said, and she noticed his index finger and thumb rubbing together on his right hand. The nervous gesture betrayed the nonchalant look on his face. “What do I owe you?”

“Nothing.” Felicity shook her head. “I didn’t do much and this is going to the police, so don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

**

Felicity parked at the SCPD, bullet-ridden laptop in hand. After Oliver left, she spent the next couple hours completely combing through the laptop and making sure she didn’t miss anything before turning it over. She knew once she gave it up, she wouldn’t have access to it again and Felicity was extremely interested in the whole situation. She needed to have all her snooping done on the laptop.

Why exactly would a laptop belonging to Warren Patel have plans of the Exchange Building on it? And why was it left on a sidewalk riddled with bullet holes in a random neighborhood?

That is, if Oliver was telling the truth about where he found it. Felicity wasn’t convinced he was.

Her best guess was that whoever shot up the laptop was also the same person who was targeting the Unidac bidders. The homemade chemistry test she’d whipped up proved there was trace amounts of curare on the bullet holes in the laptop casing.

Maybe someone attacked the shooter and stole the laptop then the shooter fired back, hitting the computer.

Then the attacker, in their haste to escape, dropped it and that’s how Oliver found it?

Even in her own mind, the theory didn’t sound that believable, but it was all she could come up with.

Felicity eyed the laptop sitting in her passenger seat, then with a resigned sigh she texted Lance to come outside. A few minutes later, he walked out of the building into the barely lit parking lot. Even at night and under the crappy yellow artificial light from the street lamps, she could see that his hair was sticking up even more than usual and his tie was crooked. He seemed more frazzled than typical. Felicity slid out of her car, grabbing the laptop as she went. She met him halfway through the lot, right next to his police cruiser.

“You look like shit.” Felicity said bluntly, looking him up and down.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Thanks.”

“Sorry, but you do. What’s up?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lance said gruffly, shuffling his feet. She noticed the tell, and he noticed the laptop. “What’s that?”

“I’ll tell you, if you tell me what’s going on.” Felicity bargained, a little grin on her face.

“No.” He answered immediately.

“Please.” She gave him puppy-dog eyes.

“That didn’t work on me when my girls were younger, and it sure as hell won’t work on me now.” His voice was dry, but his eyes were lighter than a moment ago.

“ _Pretty_ please.”

Lance looked upwards like he was asking whoever was up there for strength. He closed his eyes and let out a put upon sigh. When he met her gaze again, he seemed a little accusing.

“Your little friend had a shootout in a motel in the Glades. We think it was with whoever’s targeting the Unidac buyers because the bullets had traces of curare. And after finding arrows at the penthouse too, I’m thinking the Hood is hunting the shooter.”

Felicity’s jaw dropped. The laptop suddenly felt heavy in her hands.

“About that—,” Felicity started, only to cut herself off when she saw a hooded figure approaching Lance from behind. Before she could warn him, the Hood slammed the detective face down against the patrol car. “What the fu—,”

As mean, and off topic as it was, all she could think was that the archer was much nicer to her than he was to Lance.

Lance groaned, pinned to the hood of the car with his arm behind his back. Felicity raised the laptop, fully intending to hit the vigilante with it.

“Hey! No one gets manhandle Lance like that but me! Let him go!” She brandished the computer like a weapon. Felicity didn’t think it would do much, but she’d have to at least try.

“You son of a bitch! You gotta a lot of balls assaulting a detective in front of the SCPD.” Lance ground out, absolutely furious.

“Quiet!” The archer said, his voice intimidating and definitely scary sounding through his synthesizer, but he ignored both of their words. He hadn’t even looked at her, all his focus on Lance. “The man you’re looking for-,”

“Don’t tell me to be quiet!” Felicity fumed, taking a step forward. “You’re the one who came over here all Hooded and growly and assault-y. You let Lance go and then maybe we can all talk like rational adults.”

“Felicity!” Lance hissed out in a warning. She knew he was worried for her, but she knew the Hood wouldn’t hurt her. He hadn’t yet.

The Hood finally looked at her, or well, turned his head towards her. In the dark, and with the shadow the hood casted, she couldn’t make out any of his features, so it was hard to tell if he actually was. But it sure felt like his eyes were burning into her.

“The Detective tried to shoot me at our last encounter. I don’t intend on leaving here with a bullet wound.” He growled out.

“He isn’t gonna shoot you, right Lance?” Felicity asked the detective, and his answering grumble was half-hearted at best, but she’d take it. “See, he said no. Now let him go.”

“I didn’t say-,” Lance started, but the Hood releasing him abruptly had him snapping his jaw shut. He glared at the archer and took a protective step closer to her. Felicity rolled her eyes. “If she wasn’t here right now and I wasn’t risking her safety, I’d shoot you where you stand.”

“Hey now, we agreed there would be no shooting happening tonight.” Felicity chimed in, lowering the laptop.

“I’m not going to hurt you, detective,” He tilted his head to where she stood, “Or her.”

Which was a nice sentiment and all but seeing as he just had Quentin in pretty much an arm bar Felicity was a little skeptical of how much truth was behind that.

Or well, at least when it came to Lance’s safety.

“What the hell did you come here for then?” Lance demanded.

“Floyd Lawton is the name of the man you’re looking for. He goes by the alias Deadshot.” The Hood informed them. “He’ll be targeting the auction next.”

“Why are you suddenly in the mood to share information with the police?” Felicity asked, confused.

“The auction is to take place at the Exchange Building tomorrow night, and it’s too big for me to protect by myself. I need the SCPD’s help.” He sounded reluctant, like the last thing he wanted was to ask for assistance.

“Why should we believe you?” Lance questioned, crossing his arms.

“Well, that’s actually why I’m here. I can help with that.” Felicity chipped in at the risk of turning Lance’s ire on her. He swung his head around so fast she could’ve sworn she heard his neck crack.

“Are you working with this psychopath?”

“What? No!” Felicity said defensively, “I had someone drop off a suspicious curare bullet-riddled laptop to my office today, and it had plans of the Exchange Building on it. Which proves what he’s telling us. The computer is owned by Warren Patel, who I’m guessing hired Deadshot, cool name by the way, to kill off the other bidders.”

She didn’t mention it was Oliver because that would just make Lance even more agitated. Felicity felt the Hood’s intense stare on her.

How he could manage that level of intensity without even being able to see his eyes, Felicity didn’t know.

“Jesus, kid.” Lance scrubbed a hand down his face. “How are you involved in everything that goes down in this city?” He sounded completely exasperated.

Felicity shrugged in response, a smirk on her lips. “It’s truly just a gift.”

“A gift that’s gonna get you hurt.” Lance chided her, worry on his face.

“I’ll be fine.” She said dismissively, “But the bidders won’t be if you don’t agree to help. So, what do you say? SCPD, Overwatch Investigations, and the Hood team up?” Felicity held up a hand for a high five. No one returned it. She lowered her hand slowly. “You both are no fun.”

“Are you in, Detective?” The archer asked him, ignoring Felicity again.

Rude.

“Just this once.” Lance said begrudgingly, then glared at him. “But if you ever come near me, or her again, I’ll have you in a pair a cuff’s or filled with buckshot before you can draw back that little bow of yours.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” He answered, and if she didn’t know any better, Felicity would say he sounded amused. He raised his bow and fired a grappling arrow into the top of the SCPD. He was gone within seconds.

“Did he seriously use that again as his dramatic exit? I mean, what is with him and ziplining away?” Felicity complained.

Lance just stared at her, wholly unimpressed.

**

The next night, Felicity straightened her black cocktail dress and made her way to the entrance of the Exchange Building. Her heels clicked loudly against the sidewalk as she went. She stopped in front of the doors, where two SCPD cops in uniform stood guard.

“Evening, boys,” Felicity greeting, flashing them a quick smile, “Felicity Smoak. My names on the list.” And it was. Because she’d hacked into the online records a few hours ago and added it.

The two cops shared a nervous look.

“Something the matter?” Felicity questioned.

Cop One hit Cop Two with his elbow to get the man to speak up.

“Well, actually Ms. Smoak, Detective Lance instructed us not to let you in. He had you trespassed from the building so I’m going to have to ask you to leave. If you don’t, we’ll have to take you into custody.” Cop Two said it like he was reading off of a script all while looking uncomfortable and sounding anxious.

Felicity felt her jaw drop.

That asshat!  
Lance had told her not to come tonight under any circumstances and said she wasn’t going to have any part in the police efforts, but she didn’t actually listen to him. That was their thing. He told her to not to do something knowing she was going to do it anyways, then she did it and he acted fondly exasperated while everything worked out in the end with her help.

This was the first time he’d actively broken from that routine.

Felicity knew he was worried about her safety, but this was over the top.

“I want to talk to him.” Felicity said stubbornly, crossing her arms and ignoring the impatient rich people behind her that were waiting to get inside.

“He said you might say that,” Cop One said, “But Detective Lance told us that he’s not changing his mind. You have to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere until that overprotective hard ass comes out here and talks to me.”

They shared another look. Cop One reached for his handcuffs. Felicity raised a threatening eyebrow at the movement, and he stopped immediately.

“Miss Smoak, I’m sorry but Lance said if you won’t leave and follow the no trespass order then we have to arrest you.”

“Well, I’m not leaving.” Felicity said stubbornly, not believing they’d actually arrest her.

One hour and a holding cell later, Felicity was regretting that decision.

Cop One had stuck to his word by arresting her and bringing her back to the SCPD. Felicity considered resisting but she didn’t because she didn’t know how serious Lance was about this, and she didn’t want to actually catch a charge. After she was booked and fingerprinted, he led her to the cell. Felicity stepped inside, glaring at him the whole time. He shut the metal bars.

“Detective Lance said he’d come by after the auction and get you out. He’s going to drop the charges so nothing will be permanent, but he wants you in custody while it’s happening.” Cop One told her, looking apologetic.

“I’m pretty sure that’s fucking illegal.” Felicity hissed through the bars, staring daggers at him.

“Not really.” He shrugged. “You did violate the no trespass and since the Exchange Building is public property and he wrote the order, he can also drop the charges.” 

For the first time that night, she glanced at his badge, memorizing his name.

“Officer Miller?” Felicity questioned sweetly, smiling up at him.

Her change in tone obviously freaked him out because he took a step back.

“Uh, yes?” He stammered.

“I’m going to remember your name.”

He swallowed nervously and all but ran from the holding area.

“Nice one.” A male, young sounding voice called out from behind her. “I think he almost pissed his pants.”

She turned around to see a teenager in a red hoodie, laid out casually on the bench that was pressed against the concrete wall. He was relaxed, laying on it like it was a couch at his house and not a jail cell. Felicity sighed, shoving his legs off the hard metal seat so she could sit down as well. They were the only two in the cell, and it was the only place to sit.

“Hey!” He protested but sat up anyways, looking her up and down. “Let me guess, lady of the night?” He stared pointedly at her short dress and high heels.

Felicity gasped in indignation. “I’m not a prostitute!”

“My bad.” He held up his hands defensively. “It’s just the shoes, the dress, the pink hair.” He shrugged. “And I heard ‘no trespass order’ and my mind went to hooker.”

She punched the stranger in the arm. Teenager or not, he was being rude. He cried out in pain and rubbed his arm, sliding away from her.

“First off, I’m not hooker. These shoes aren’t even that high, and this is an old dress, so I didn’t realize how short it’d gotten until it was too late. And having colored hair doesn’t make someone a sex worker. Second, I was being banned from the Exchange Building because I’m a private investigator and Detective Lance didn’t want me there to, you know, investigate.” Felicity explained, glaring at him.

“Oh. Well you could’ve fooled me, Blondie.” He smirked, but she could tell he was just screwing with her now.

She rolled her eyes and stuck out her hand. “Felicity Smoak.”

“Roy Harper.” He shook her hand.

“What’d they get you for, Abercrombie?” Felicity asked, grinning at the annoyance on his face at the nickname.

“I got caught trying to steal a car.”

“Amateur.” She scoffed, mostly teasing.

He raised an eyebrow, glaring at her. “What do you know about jacking cars?”

“You’d be surprised.” Felicity answered, leaning back against the wall. She shivered at the cold concrete as seeped through her thin dress. She eyed him carefully. “You smash a window or use a slim jim?”

“Slim jim.”

She shook her head. Rookie.

The new generation didn’t have any finesse.

“That’s why you got caught, kid. Learn to pick a lock or stick to luxury cars with keyless entry. You can buy a device that hacks into the electronic locking system, it’ll unlock it and start the car for you.” Felicity explained, shifting on the bench to get more comfortable. It didn’t work, the seat was still hard and unforgiving.

“Where the hell do you get something like that?” Roy asked incredulously.

“You can literally buy anything on the internet.” She shrugged. “Or make it yourself. I’ve done it.”

“Okay, but aren’t private investigators basically junior cops? Why are you telling me this?”

“Gross.” Felicity wrinkled her nose, looking at him in distaste. “Don’t call me a cop. I’d rather be a hooker.”

“How do you know this stuff?” Roy questioned, ignoring her statement.

“I grew up on the wrong side of Vegas. It’s not the Glades, but close enough. I learned a thing or two.” 

“Can you make me one? The thing that unlocks cars?” Roy asked excitedly. “Or teach me to pick locks?”

“Depends.” Felicity observed him. “What do you do with the cars you steal?”

“I…I take them apart. Sell them for parts.”

“So, you’re a mechanic?” She didn’t ask what he did with the money. That was obvious. The kid looked like he was missing meals, and she didn’t doubt he used the money for basic life necessities.

Roy shook his head self-depreciatively. “Not really.”

“Sounds like it to me.” Felicity smiled at him, genuinely this time. But she knew his type and knew he wouldn’t take to the kindness. It wasn’t anything against him. Kids like Roy who grew up in poverty, surrounded by crime and drugs, saw kindness as suspicious. Trusting strangers wasn’t a privilege they could afford. “You’re a terrible car thief if you got caught at it. But my Mini Cooper is piece of crap. Needs the oil changed and about twenty different repairs. You wanna fix it? I can pay you. But if you try to steal it, I’ll tase you.”

Roy stared at her in equal parts astonishment and suspicion, just like she expected.

“I’m not some charity case. I don’t need your help.” He said bitterly.

“Seems like you do since you just asked me to help you steal cars.” Felicity snarked right back. “How about some honest work? No risk of jail time and guaranteed payment.” She wasn’t lying, her car was a piece of junk. Felicity had it since her college days. She’d driven it all the way from Vegas to MIT and then to Starling.

Normally, she wouldn’t dissuade any con mans attempt at conning, but Roy was young.

And a really bad car thief since he got caught.

Felicity grew up in this life, she knew the ins and outs and while she loved it, loved the thrills, she also knew the dangers. Roy seemed like a good kid who was in over his head and didn’t have the slightest clue what he was doing. It’d end up getting him killed or imprisoned for the rest of his young life.

Her Uncle Jack had been a guiding hand in her life, taking and aiming her intellect and potential in albeit illegal ways, but he also instilled her with a strict set of morals. And how not to get caught. Without his influence, she probably would’ve ended up in some really sticky situations. Hell, the first time they met she was just a little girl, but she was already counting cards in the casino her mother worked in. Her mom was also a huge influence on her life. Donna Smoak was one of the kindest, most giving people Felicity had ever known, and she taught her daughter that same generosity.

Roy didn’t seem to have anyone like that in his own life.

And Felicity had a need to help people. It was part of the reason she became a PI.

“You trust me to work on your car? You just met me. In a jail cell. That I’m in for stealing cars.” Roy said in disbelief, looking at her like she was from another planet. “Are you crazy, Blondie?”

“Like I said, if you steal it, I will find you, and I will tase you.”

“Alright.” Roy agreed, a little hesitant. “I’ll do it.”

Felicity grinned. “Good. And if you do a good job, I’ll still teach you how to pick a lock.”

The teenage wanna-be criminal smirked at that.

“Show me now. Put your money where your mouth is and pick the lock on the door.” He pointed to the barred metal door which sealed them into the room.

“Can’t.” She snorted, then paused, rephrasing. “Actually, I can. But I won’t. That door is on an electronic lock release, the manual lock only works if the power goes out. And in order to get the power to go out, I’d need to damage some property.” She pointed up at the fluorescent lights above them. She could technically do some tricky rewiring to blow the breaker and cause the power to go out, but it wasn’t worth it. “Which I won’t do since I’ll be out of here soon enough.”

Once again, he looked surprised. “How do you know that? About the door?”

“I don’t walk into police stations without knowing how to get out of them.”

“Humor me then.” Roy sat back next to her, leaning against the wall. “I’m bored. Tell me how you’d break out of this shit hole.”

Felicity laughed. “I’m not giving away all my secrets.” She leaned closer conspiratorially, meeting his eyes and whispering, “Besides, we’re on camera right now. I don’t want the cops to know my plans, just in case I need to use them.”

He looked away from her, and directly into the camera above them. Felicity flicked him in the forehead.

“Idiot.” She scolded. “Never look into the camera. You don’t want them to know you know they’re watching. Honestly Roy, you’re the worst criminal ever.”

**

Two hours later, Felicity was rudely awakened by Roy shoving her head off his shoulder. She tipped forwards, barely catching herself before she hit the concrete.

“Real nice, Roy.” Felicity glared at him.

He shrugged, unrepentant. “It’s time for you to go.” The teenager pointed to the door with a smirk.

Detective Quentin Lance stood stiffly, looking tired and not the slightest bit regretful. She turned her glare on him next.

“Don’t give me that look, Felicity,” Lance said, rolling his eyes. “I told you not to show up, and you were warned to leave. I’m not apologizin’ for it. I made the right choice. The auction got shot up just like I thought it would.”

Felicity stood up quickly, moving to the bars. “I’ll get you back for this later, but was anyone hurt?”

Her mind flashed to John Diggle and the Queen family. She knew they were going to be there.

“No,” Lance answered, shaking his head. “I tackled Walter Steele before he could get shot but the rest of the Queens are fine. At least, I guess. Queen disappeared with his body guard, but his mother said he was fine, said John Diggle got him to safety.”

“Disappeared?”

“Yeah, the shots started and both him and his body guard vanished. Haven’t seen him since.” The detective had an odd look on his face, like it was bothering him. “We never found Lawton, but there was evidence him and the Hood battled it out.”

“Strange.” Felicity mumbled to herself, her thoughts racing. “Think he’s alive?”

“The Hood or Lawton?”

“Lawton. Or the Hood. Both, really.” She tried for nonchalant, but he didn’t seem to buy it.

“I’m sure your favorite psychopath is still alive.” Lance snapped.

Felicity glared at him. “If your just gonna be mean to me then I’d rather stay in here with Roy.”

“Sorry, kiddo. I had rough night.” He sighed, then made a gesture at one of the cameras in the hall. The door buzzed open. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

Felicity stepped out of the cell, waving bye to Roy. “See you soon!”

Roy chuckled. “Yeah. Whatever.”

Ah. Teenage angst. She didn’t miss it. The door shut again.

“Do you make friends everywhere you go?” Lance questioned, humor in his voice as he led her down the hall. “He’s a criminal.”

“Technically, so am I.” She pointed out, then added with no small amount of snark, “Thanks to you.”

“I’m getting the charges dropped in the morning. It’s not permanent.”

“You better. Oh, and if Ace went potty in my apartment while I was in jail, I’m making you clean it up.” Felicity said threateningly, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Fine.”


	4. An Innocent Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Diggle deal with the aftermath of Oliver's green secret being revealed. Felicity learns some interesting information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i am so sorry for such a long wait for this. I know it's been awhile. i just lost some of my inspiration and love for this fic, but i really so do appreciate anyone who has ever read, commented, or kudoed on this! you all are the best and without that I might have abandoned this fic. i cant promise anything on when for another update, but please just keep being patient with me :)  
> yall rock!
> 
> without further ado~

Oliver made his way down the stairs, sound from the TV in the living room trickling through the otherwise quiet mansion. He headed towards it, unsurprised to find Thea sitting on the couch, her legs tucked up under her and a large bowl of popcorn on her lap.

“Hi, Speedy.” He said softly, and she jumped, nearly knocking the bowl off her lap.

“Jesus, Ollie! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” Thea chided, steadying the bowl and placing a hand over her chest. “You need a bell.”

“Sorry,” He apologized, and took a seat next to her on the sofa. “What’re you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” She said simply, offering some of the popcorn to him.

“No, thanks.” Oliver shook his head. “And me either.”

Thea gave him a sympathetic look, but she didn’t ask why he couldn’t sleep.

He was grateful.

Oliver wondered if their mother had told her about him nearly choking her to death after being torn from a brutal nightmare the other night. He’d woken up again tonight from a fitful sleep that was full of nightmares and memories he didn’t want to discuss. Those, on top of revealing his secret to John Diggle and how badly the solider reacted, hadn’t made it possible to fall back asleep.

But then again, Oliver never slept much anymore.

He was always in a state of hyper awareness now, even when he was resting, the instinctual need to protect himself constantly prevalent and never fully abated.

Oliver just hoped that he wouldn’t need to protect himself against his body guard. He’d trusted his gut by telling Diggle about his other identity, and he hadn’t thought the man would go to the police. But Oliver wasn’t certain of that anymore, not after what Diggle had said when he woke up in the Foundry after getting shot by Lawton.

John had called him a murderer. 

He didn’t regret saving Diggle’s life from Lawton’s poisoned bullet. And it was too late to regret his decision to reveal his identity, so Oliver just had to trust his gut about the solider.

“This guy is such a POS.” Thea said, there was a scowl on her face as she turned up the TV. “He killed his wife in their baby’s room. Total psycho.”

Her voice broke him out of his thoughts, and Oliver watched the news segment playing on the large screen.

“ _Peter Declan was accused and later found guilty of the murder of his wife, Camille Declan. Despite being on death row, and the evidence against him, Declan still maintains his innocence. Our legal expert, Hector Nunez is here in studio to discuss the details of the murder trial and if Declan can do anything to stop the execution. So, Hector-,”_ Bethany Snows voice was muted by the remote in Thea’s hand.

She turned to face him, a smirk on her face. “So, Laurel came by earlier.”

“I know,” Oliver sighed, meeting her eyes. He knew she overheard them by the pity he found in her big brown eyes. “You heard what she said.”

“I did.” Thea grimaced. “It was harsh. But I mean, she did come over here to make sure you didn’t get shot, so that has to count for something?” Her voice was leading at the end, a higher pitch to it.

“I’m not so sure.” Oliver answered, thinking back to everything Laurel said. She’d shown up right as he’d gotten back to the mansion from the Foundry and practically tore into him about disappearing after the auction and his behavior since he’d returned home. She was right, partially. He was selfish, and his family did deserve better than what he could give them right now.

But his mission had to come first. Oliver had to do right by his fathers wrongs.

That was how he could do better, be better.

“Where did you and Mr. Diggle go anyways?” Speedy asked, curiosity lighting up her eyes as her eyebrows drew together.

“He put in me in the car and drove somewhere safe until everything was clear then brought me here.” He lied.

Thea hummed, but stared at him like she didn’t quite believe it.

“Are you going to make a play?”

“For Dig? No, not my type.” Oliver replied, a serious expression on his face but his words were teasing.

“No,” His baby sister laughed. “You know who I’m talking about. Laurel.” At his head shake, she pushed, “Why not? I mean besides the whole sleeping with her sister and her sister dying, and her dad hating your guts and you basically being a jerk to everyone since you’ve been back?”

“Those are pretty good reasons to stay away from her.” Oliver let out another sigh, finally looking away from his little sister. He stared at the small sized model ship of the Gambit on the table next to the TV. He didn’t know why is mother would keep something like that in the house after everything. “I know it may not seem like sometimes, but I’m not the same person I used to be.”

“So, show her. Be yourself. The new self.” Thea said, smiling encouragingly. But he heard what she didn’t say. She wanted him to show that version to her, to his mother, and even Walter.

“I’ll give it a shot.” He had no intention of doing that, but he knew the fastest way to get Thea to drop it was agreeing with her. Even if Laurel wasn’t in some strange friends with benefits relationship with Tommy, Oliver wasn’t even sure he wanted to be with Laurel. She clearly held enough resentment against him that she wouldn’t be letting it go anytime soon, and honestly?

It was exhausting to deal with.

Oliver had enough to worry about without including pointless relationship drama.

He wouldn’t mind being friends with her. But he didn’t think he wanted anything romantic. At least not right now.

“I just… I love you, Ollie.” Thea laid her head on his shoulder, and he had to stop himself from flinching at the unexpected contact. It wasn’t anything against his sister, he just wasn’t used to human touch that wasn’t trying to hurt him anymore. “And I want you to find someone that can make you happy, if that’s Laurel then great. But if it’s not, that’s fine too. I just want you to find someone you can be your new self around, if it can’t be us.”

**

Felicity groaned as a wet tongue licked her face repeatedly to wake her up. She shoved the over zealous dog away, rolling over in bed and burying her face into her pillow.

“C’mon, Ace.” She mumbled, her voice muffled from the fabric. “Just let a girl sleep in a little. I did spend the night in jail you know.” 

Ace barked and nudged his head against her own. Taking the hint, she sat up, glaring at the dog who was sitting happily on her bed next to her. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and he looked excited she was awake. A smile broke through her grumpiness and she reached out and scratched behind his ears.

“You’re so handsome.” Felicity cooed, running her fingers through his fur. “And of course, the only male I’m ever able to say that to in my bed isn’t even human.”

Ace tilted his head to the side like he was confused.

“Never mind. I’m sure you have to pee and so do I. Let me get dressed and I’ll take you for a walk. We can go to that little café with the park right across the street. You like chasing the squirrels there.”

Twenty minutes later, she was changed into suitable clothes with her hair and teeth brushed and ready to go on a walk. Felicity slipped on her running shoes and snapped Ace’s leash to his collar. Making sure to lock her apartment door behind her, she walked down the stairs and out of her building with Ace trailing happily next to her.

They reached the café not long after. Felicity bought a coffee along with a pastry then decided to sit on one of the benches in the park so Ace could run around. Well, park may have been an overstatement. It was fairly run down, with broken playground equipment and overgrown grass covering the jogging paths and everywhere else, but the squirrels were abundant and no one was ever there. Felicity liked the quiet of it.

It was peaceful.

She was just finishing off her food when she noticed a familiar person jogging on one of the barely there trails in the park.

“John Diggle?” Felicity called out, waving him over.

He seemed equally surprised to see her but made his way over anyways.

“Hey, Felicity. What’re you doing here?” Dig asked, concern filtering through his expression. “This isn’t exactly the best area.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “What is it with overprotective men in my life? I’m just fine. The large dog chasing squirrels also chases humans, and I carry a taser everywhere I go. Have you considered that maybe it’s not safe for you here?”

John looked down at himself, all six-foot-four, over two hundred pounds of pure muscle with biceps big enough to crush watermelons. He met her gaze, amusement shining in his eyes. “I think I’ll be just fine.”

“Shouldn’t you be baby sitting somewhere?” Felicity huffed, crossing her arms. Something akin to anger and almost conflicted passed over his face. She shot him an apologetic look, assuming his expression was aimed at her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hit a nerve there. I was just kidding.”

John sighed heavily, taking a seat next to her. She noticed he moved gingerly, favoring his left side. “It’s not you.”

“Wanna talk about it?” She asked gently, turning slightly to face him.

“I just… I found out something important that changes everything I thought I knew, and I don’t know how to handle the information I was told.”

Her eyebrows drew together at that cryptic statement. Felicity originally assumed it had something to do with his bodyguard job since he reacted so poorly to her babysitter comment, but how could what he just said apply to that?

“That’s a little too vague for me to help. Can I buy a vowel?” Felicity said, half serious half kidding.

“Sorry,” John chuckled, and added slowly, like he was picking each word with great care, “It has to do with my work. And if I want to continue ‘babysitting’ as you put it, or not. I might have a chance to do something more again, more than just that but… I don’t know if I can do it. If it’s worth it.”

“Well, I know I don’t know you very well, but you know I’ve read your service record. You have outstanding commendations from your time overseas, glowing references from all your superiors and a need to be a force for good.” Felicity paused, then rephrased. “Actually, that last one is just my opinion. Your service records didn’t say that. But I think part of you wants to strive to be that person again, to do more than protect bratty billionaires. So, if you have that chance, why not take it?”

Diggle studied her in a way that made Felicity wanted to squirm before he smiled. “Thank you, Felicity. That actually helps.”

“Anytime. Now, do I get paid by the hour or a flat fee?” Felicity joked, then realized what she said. Her eyes widened. “Oh my god. I didn’t mean to sound like a hooker. I was trying to make a therapist joke, that’s what I meant, not sex work. This is the second time in barely 24 hours that I’ve made myself seem like a prostitute.”

She wanted to smack herself.

“I’m not sure I want know how this is the second time you’ve done that,” John laughed, and stood up. “But I know what you meant. I’ll see you later, Felicity. I have some thinking to do.”

Felicity waved bye mutely, absolutely refusing to open her mouth again until he was far away and out of hearing range. Her phone rang, startling her. She fished it out of her purse, answering without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“ _Just a hello? It that the way to greet your favorite uncle?”_ Uncle Jack’s voice came through the phone.

His voice had always sounded strange to her ears. He lacked an accent in a way that was almost suspicious because it felt like he meant to speak that way, like he was trying to disguise something. The words he chose, and the speech pattern he talked in was nearly regal or refined and he never used slang or other defining dialects that identified it to a certain region.

Felicity had long ago stopped trying to figure it, and him, out.

“You’re my only Uncle.” Felicity retorted, grinning.

“ _Which is good because then I have no one to compete against for the favorite position.”_

She laughed. “Why are you calling Jack?”

“ _Can’t I just miss you, Mouse?”_

“You know I hate that nickname. I will hang up on you.” Felicity threatened. He’d been calling her ‘mouse’ since she was a tiny curly brown-haired girl with large glasses. He said that he called her that not only because of appearance, but because she reminded him of a mouse. Small, but sneaky, with the ability to disappear when necessary and take whatever she wanted with her. And depending on the person, strike fear into their hearts.

As someone who was vaguely terrified of mice, she could semi-understand that last point.

But she still hated the nickname.

“ _Do that, my dear, and I may have to come to Starling.”_

“Don’t. I’m doing just fine, Uncle.” She rolled her eyes.

“ _Then why exactly did you get arrested last night? And for trespassing? I know I taught you better than that.”_

Her jaw dropped, and she all but yelled into the phone, “Are you spying on me?”

“ _No, I’m caring about you.”_

“Really? ‘Cause it feels a whole hell of a lot like spying!” Felicity couldn’t believe him. Well, actually she could, because this is exactly something he would do. But she was still outraged. She moved to Starling to get away from his influence, but of course, he had eyes and ears here in her city too.

“ _Why did you let yourself get arrested?”_

“It was an accident. I didn’t think Lance would actually do it. But it’s fine. He’s dropping the charges.” She begrudgingly answered.

“ _What were you working on?”_

“Doesn’t matter now, it’s over with.” Felicity said with finality, then changed the subject. “What have you been up too?”

“ _Oh, you know, a little of this and a little of that.”_ Was his vague response. She expected that.

No matter how many times she told him she’d personally encrypted her phone, and his, he still didn’t trust it not to be tapped.

“Mhm. And how’s my mom?” Felicity asked, a smile on her face at his predictability.

“ _Donna is great. She wishes you would call her more. We both do.”_

“I’ve been…” Felicity trailed off searching for the right word to describe the last couple of weeks, from the Hood to Lance to the cases that kept falling in her lap. “Busy.”

She decided not to tell her Uncle any of it, because he really would show up in Starling and raise Hell. He trusted her judgement, she knew he did, but Felicity knew he wouldn’t like the thought of her being near a man who concealed his face and had (technically) killed a few people.

Uncle Jack was fine with deceit, even killing under certain circumstances, but he believed a person should look another in the eyes when doing those things. He followed a strict moral code when it came to how he broke the law. It was fucked up logic while at the same time, it made sense to her. And she knew he wouldn’t approve of the vigilante.

“ _Are you hiding something from me, Mouse?”_ Uncle Jack questioned, curiosity in his voice.

“No, of course not.”

“ _Nothing?”_

“If I was, do you honestly think I’d tell you before I was ready?”

He laughed, the sound coming out loudly over the speaker. “ _No, I suppose you wouldn’t. I can see that I won’t be able to convince you to tell me anything more, so just know that I’m here to help if you need it.”_

His voice was earnest and kind, and Felicity was struck with a feeling of home sickness.

“I know. I love you, Uncle Jack. And my mom. Tell her I love her, and miss her.”

**

After finding out John quit and then escaping his new bodyguard, Rob Scott, Oliver spent the day in the Foundry doing research on Peter Declan. He didn’t want to focus on Diggle, and the problem he’d become if he decided not to keep Oliver’s secret. Oliver hoped giving the solider time and space would help him come to the conclusion that was he was doing was necessary for the city, and he would join the crusade.

The other option wasn’t ideal.

If John Diggle became a liability to his cause, then Oliver would have no choice but to act.

He ignored that thought for now, instead focusing on everything he’d found about Peter Declan so far. Oliver leaned closer to the screen, reading the articles he researched.

The man was accused and found guilty of murdering his wife, then sentenced to death. He had no alibi, his fingerprints were on the weapon and all the other evidence pointed to it. It seemed like a solid case.

Except for one thing.

Camille Declan worked for Jason Brodeur.

And he was on the List.

It was a good thing he knew a persistent lawyer.

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to involve Laurel, it could put her at risk, or he could put himself at risk in case she realized who he was. But some part of him wanted to show her he had changed. That he wasn’t Ollie anymore. That he wasn’t as selfish and uncaring as he had to make himself seem. He was a different man.

And he had done so many wrongs to Laurel that he wanted to prove he could do something right too. Like saving an innocent man’s life and putting the truly guilty one behind bars. Even if Laurel wouldn’t know it was really him under the Hood, Oliver would know, and it might be enough.

Enough to alleviate some the guilt he felt when he looked at her.

Oliver still wasn’t sure how he felt about Laurel in the romantic sense. He knew she made Tommy happy, that they made each other happy and Oliver didn’t want to mess with it. He’d thought when he first saw her again he’d be struck by some overwhelming feeling of love or something like it.

But when he looked at her and saw the anger and pain in her eyes when she looked at him, all he felt was _guilt_. Along with an uncomfortable ache in his chest. It wasn’t longing, sexual or romantic, it was more shame than anything else. A hurtful reminder of the past, of his mistakes and the things he could never undo.

So, he would bring this case to her. Let her help him prove Declan’s innocence, and cross another name off his List while maybe lessening that shameful feeling pressing against his ribs. Part of Oliver realized he was just trying to trade in one past bad deed with a good one, but he didn’t care. As long as it worked.

Without warning, the image of Felicity Smoak popped into his minds eye. He shook his head to clear it.

No.

He wouldn’t involve her in this. She already had a knack for getting herself into trouble and he refused to aide her in that. He already made the mistake of bringing her the laptop, triggering her curiosity about Oliver Queen, and he knew if he kept appearing as the Hood as well, she might start putting the pieces together. She was far too intelligent, and tenacious, for her own good.

She had a way of seeing past his defenses, his carefully controlled expressions and words and that was the last thing he wanted. His crusade against the corrupt in the city had just started, and Oliver had a feeling if he involved Felicity anymore that she would affect that.

He didn’t know how she kept doing it, but she had a gift for disrupting his plans. Felicity was the first person he’d revealed his existence as the Hood too. That hadn’t been his original plan to introduce the vigilante to Starling when he decided to come home.

Oliver didn’t regret it though.

If he hadn’t stepped in, she could’ve been hurt by the man threatening her—even though she said she had it handled. Then she had appeared at Laurel’s apartment after they were attacked, and again at the warehouse. Oliver had been surprised she wasn’t at the auction, especially after his hooded conversation with Lance and her in the parking lot, until he overheard from some gossiping wives that some girl with pink hair had been arrested for trespassing. Oliver had grinned at that, figuring Lance had a hand in it to keep Felicity safe.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t waited until she approached Lance with the laptop to talk with him. Oliver was intrigued by her, and by how she would react to him around the Detective. Felicity hadn’t disappointed. Threatening him with the computer she held and yelling at him when he held Lance down in a rough hold, without so much as a bat of her eye. And she didn’t even tell the Detective where she got the laptop. She protected his alter ego without even really knowing him.

Felicity was fearless, and she was loyal.

Two things that were equally dangerous and priceless in his world.

Oliver resolved to keep those traits from letting her get herself killed. He wasn’t sure how he was going to accomplish that yet. But he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

**

The next day, Felicity walked into the SCPD more than a little annoyed. She’d been at the police station way too much recently, but Lance had called her and said she had to come in and sign some paperwork to finish getting the trespassing charges officially dropped. She made her way past the officer on desk duty (the same one she bribed with donuts so he just waved her through) and up to Lance’s floor. The detective saw her immediately, dismay crossing his face. She huffed.

He was the one who decided to have her arrested, and he was the one who called her here, so he didn’t get make that face.

Felicity practically stomped over to him. “Don’t you dare give me that look, Quentin Lance. You’re the reason I’m here right now.”

He had the good grace to seem sheepish. “Sorry, kid. I wasn’t aiming it at you. Well, I was but only because you have terrible timing.”

“You told me to come!” She threw up her hands in frustration, “I was going to spend the day with Roy while he fixed my car, but I had to postpone because you said you needed me here.”

“Who’s Roy?” Lance asked, his eyebrows furrowing. “And what’s wrong with your car? Need me to take a look?”

She rolled her eyes. “Everything. My car’s a hunk of junk but she’s my baby and I love her. And I met Roy when I was in jail. He fixes cars, along with stealing them. So, he’s got it covered.” Felicity waved a hand dismissively.

“You’re letting a car thief near your car? I swear, you just invite trouble.” Lance sounded absolutely exasperated. Which was his usual tone with her.

Felicity grinned cheekily at him, but before she could respond, a hesitant voice spoke up from behind her.

“Dad?”

Felicity whirled around to see Laurel Lance standing there, wearing an odd expression as she stared down Felicity.

Guess that explains Lance’s face earlier.

She had a feeling his daughter didn’t particularly like her.

But Felicity didn’t particularly care.

She observed the other woman and almost laughed at the very obvious differences between them. The two couldn’t look any more opposite. Felicity dressed in her ripped jeans, t-shirt and flannel combo with her heeled sturdy boots and Laurel in her smart business suit and actual high heels. The bright pink coloring in her own blonde hair compared to Laurel safe, natural brown. But not wanting to be impolite to Lance’s daughter, Felicity waved at her with an awkward smile.

Laurel didn’t wave back, or even smile, instead looking at her father. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, honey. Felicity just has to sign some paperwork,” Lance said, standing up. “I’ll go grab it, and that file you asked for. Be right back.” And with that, he left the two of them alone.

They both stood uncomfortably all while Laurel studied Felicity intently. Felicity rolled her eyes, plopping down into Lance’s recently vacated seat. She raised her legs and set her feet onto the desk top, her boot’s making a satisfying clunk as they hit the wooden table top. She stared right back at Laurel. She was looking at Felicity like someone would look at a piece of gum stuck on the bottom of their shoe.

Safe to say she didn’t appreciate the other woman’s scrutiny.

Mostly because the way Felicity grew up, if someone looked at another person the way Laurel was looking at her right now, it usually didn’t end up very well.

But this wasn’t the Vegas Strip and while she thought she’d have the upper hand on Gorgeous Laurel, she knew Lance would be upset if she handled his daughter the way she would back home in the middle of his work place.

“Is there a reason for the X-ray vision? If you’re trying to figure out the color of my underwear, I can just tell you,” Felicity said conversationally, and pointed to her pants. “They’re pink. With white polka dots.”

Crass? Maybe.

Hilarious? Definitely.

It was too fun to not mess with the seemingly uptight lawyer.

Laurel looked affronted, and slightly embarrassed. Her cheeks flushed as her eyes narrowed. Felicity couldn’t help but smirk.

“Why are you here? With my dad? I thought PI’s usually avoided cops.” Laurel shot back, crossing her arms.

Felicity leaned back in the seat, shrugging. “Your Dad is a different kind of cop. I actually don’t mind him. But don’t tell him I said that. He might think I stopped being mad at him for arresting me.”

Laurel’s lips turned up into a smug smile. “He arrested you?”

“He did. That’s why I’m really here, I left behind the shiv I made in the holding cell and I was hoping to get it back.” She grinned as Laurel’s face paled. It was a lie, but she couldn’t help herself. Laurel’s sense of self-importance needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

“You didn’t make any shivs, kid. And get your boots off my desk,” Lance chided, walking back up to them. He was carrying multiple stacks of papers in his arms. “What, were you raised in a barn?”

“Nah. Mostly casinos and bars.” Felicity smirked but dropped her feet to the floor. “I’m still mad at you for that, by the way.”

“Yeah,” Lance was unperturbed. “Well you’re still breathing and not full of bullet holes so I can live with it. Sign these, and your criminal record is officially gone.” He set some of the papers in front of her. “At least, the stuff we know about.”

“Yay, maybe now I can get a job in the corporate world. Employers tend to look down on criminal records.” Felicity said teasingly as she signed the papers.

Lance chuckled. They both knew Hell would have to freeze over before she ever joined the corporate world.

“Dad,” Laurel cut in, her voice aggravated. “Do you have the file on the Declan murder?”

Felicity’s ears perked up, suddenly interested in what Laurel had to say. She’d seen all the coverage on the Declan case, and knew most of the details from her own independent research (i.e. hacking). The man was scheduled to be executed soon, and the case was pretty much open and shut so she wasn’t sure why Laurel was sticking her nose into it.

Her career was as a lawyer, sure, but she didn’t originally work the case. So why was she interested now?

“Yeah,” Lance answered, handing her a file. “It’s all there. I wasn’t the lead on this, but we got motive, blood, fingerprints, everything.”

Laurel shot Felicity a quick glance before snatching the file away from her father. “Thanks, but I’m not so sure. Camille Declan worked for Jason Brodeur. He’s the kind of guy with the resources to frame someone.”

She turned like she was going to walk away, but Lance spoke up again causing her to pause.

“Laurel, the man is gonna be dead soon. Don’t you think if I thought we got the wrong guy I wouldn’t just be sitting here?” He sounded a little aggravated, and Felicity suddenly wished she was anywhere but here.

Felicity didn’t want to listen to a Lance family argument. Talk about awkward. But Lance stood next to her seat and she couldn’t make it past him without making things weirder, so she just kept quiet.

Laurel turned and looked at Felicity again, like she didn’t want to talk about it in front of her and Felicity rolled her eyes, making a ‘by all means’ gesture. She wasn’t leaving now just to be petty. But Laurel still seemed hesitant to share.

“I’ll probably just tell her anyways, Laurel. Seeing as she’s actually qualified to investigate whatever conspiracy you think is goin’ on. So, you might as well do me the favor of not havin’ to repeat myself.” Lance said sarcastically.

Felicity hid a laugh behind her hand and Laurel gave her a dirty look.

“Fine.” She huffed in resignation, “Declan said that his wife went to her supervisor with allegations that Brodeur was dumping toxic waste in the Glades. I think Brodeur found out and had her killed.”

“Yeah, but that supervisor,” He took the file from Laurel and flipped the page, pointing to a line and showing her, “Matt Istook said that never happened.”

“Come on, Detective.” Felicity chimed in, grinning, “You should know by now that everybody lies. Some even make a living off of it.”

“You be quiet.” Lance glared at her. “You’re supposed to have my back in this.”

Even Laurel looked surprised at her show of support. Felicity shrugged.

“What can I say? I like to be unpredictable.” She winked at him, then turned her attention to Laurel. “Obviously something triggered you to start looking into this, whatever or whoever,” Something flickered in Laurel’s expression at that, and Felicity didn’t miss it, but she continued anyways, “That is will probably lead to more if you keep pushing it. And if you think Istook is lying, my suggestion would be to make that your next move after you’ve exhausted your initial source.”

Trepidation moved across her face before she shut it down and replaced it with indifference. Felicity found that interesting. She tilted her head, studying Laurel.

“Who was it?” Felicity asked the lawyer.

“Who was what?” Laurel asked defensively. Lance seemed to catch on.

“Someone tipped you off. Who?” He demanded.

Laurel’s eyes flicked almost imperceptibly to the wanted posters of the Hood on the bulletin board behind them before back to her father. “No one. I saw the news and just got curious.”

Felicity felt her jaw drop. “No fucking way.”

Both Lances glared at her for her choice of words.

“You’re fucking around with the Hood?” Felicity asked, finally standing up. Lance gasped angrily but before he could speak, Felicity kept talking, “Coming from someone whose met him, no offense but you’re in way over your head here, Laurel.”

Laurel’s eyes narrowed in irritation, like she didn’t appreciate Felicity’s criticism.

Felicity didn’t care. Laurel was going to get herself killed. She didn’t know how to operate in the world that the vigilante did.

But Felicity was raised in it.

“Dinah Laurel Lance!” Lance nearly exploded, “Is that true? Did he bring you this?”

The lawyer stayed quiet, and that was all the answer either of them needed for a confirmation.

“When did you meet him?” Laurel questioned Felicity in full lawyer voice, ignoring her father’s ire entirely.

“I think the better question is when did _you_ meet him.” Felicity countered.

“I agree.” Lance said, fuming. “You need to stay away from that psychopath, Laurel.”

Felicity felt it would be a bad time to come to the Hood’s defense, but she didn’t think the guy was a psychopath. A little damaged, and a lot violent, but he was trying to do good things in the city.

“I didn’t meet him.” Laurel denied, obviously lying. “Like I said, I just thought the case seemed… too easy.”

Lance didn’t seem like he believed a word she said, and neither did Felicity.

“I thought it’d be a cold day in Hell before you stuck up for a criminal.” Lance said sharply, staring at his daughter.

Felicity let out a ‘ooh’ noise at the burn. Both Lances didn’t seem to appreciate that if their dagger-like glares were any indication.

Laurel was silent for a long moment before she spoke up, a quiet determination in her voice. “I want justice. And the truth.”

With that dramatic statement, she walked away. Felicity sighed and placed her hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Kids these days, you know?” She said sympathetically, hoping to break the tense atmosphere.

It didn’t work. He glared at her.


	5. An Innocent Man Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity makes a discovery. Oliver and Diggle have a chat.

“The area is secure, sir.” Oliver’s over eager bodyguard, Rob, assured him as they entered Big Belly Burger.

“Thank you very much, Rob.” Oliver answered, still not sure how the other man hadn’t picked up on his sarcasm yet. He just shook his head and walked towards where his former bodyguard sat in a booth. Diggle was talking to his sister-in-law, Carly. Oliver noticed the man was wearing a sling. His arm must’ve still been hurting him after his gunshot wound.

“Hi, Carly.” Oliver greeted, sticking his hand out to shake. She glanced at it, before crossing her arms and walking away. “I take it she doesn’t like me.” He said, sitting down in the booth across from John.

“She thinks I got hurt because of you.” Diggle answered, leaning back in the booth and observing Oliver with a calm but guarded expression.

“And how is your arm?”

“Sore. Went a little too far in my workout earlier, hence the sling.” John said, before shaking his head. “You didn’t come here to check in about my arm, Oliver.”

“No. I didn’t.” Oliver agreed, resting his forearms on the table and interlocking his fingers. “I couldn’t help but notice a distinct lack of police cars outside of my house. I knew you wouldn’t drop a dime on me.”

“I considered it.” Diggle answered seriously, his face somber.

“But you didn’t.” Oliver countered. “Have you considered my offer?”

“Your offer?” Diggle scoffed, glaring at him. “That’s one hell of a way to put it.”

“It is an offer. It’s a chance do the kind of good that compelled you to join the military.”

John stiffened at his words, a flash of recognition crossing his face as he leaned in. “I had someone else tell me almost that exact same thing about myself earlier. Does anybody else know about your dual personalities?”

Confusion ran through Oliver even as he ignored the insult. “No one. Who told you that? And did you tell them about me?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Diggle sat back, seemingly relieved. “But no, I didn’t. Just needed some advice and gave a friend a brief description of things.”

“Did they help?” Oliver asked, tilting his head. “Are you going to join me in this crusade?”

“Crusade? Please, you wore born with a platinum spoon in your mouth, Queen,” John mocked and stared him down, a hint of outrage in his eyes. “What? You spend five years on a deserted island with no room service and suddenly you found religion?” He shifted irritably in his seat, not once looking away from Oliver.

Oliver reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a notebook. He set it down on the table, sliding it to Diggle. The other man eyed it but made no move to grab it. Oliver interlocked his hands again, leaning forwards and lowering his voice.

“This was my fathers.”

John finally took the book, opening it and staring at the water damaged and fragile pages with the names listed on them. He shut it after a moment but before he could speak, Oliver took the book back and tucked it into his pocket again.

“I found it when I buried him.” Oliver told him, his voice even and detached, no emotion clouding it. He looked him directly in the eyes as he said it, so he saw Diggle’s shock.

“I thought you said your father died when the boat went down.” John said, his tone softer and more sympathetic than it had been their entire conversation.

Oliver finally looked away him, staring at the patrons lining the bar counter as memories of that night flooded in, just like the cold water of the ocean had.

“I lied. We both made it to the life raft. But there wasn’t enough food and water for both of us,” He tore his gaze away from the strangers, meeting John’s eyes again, “So he shot himself in the head.” The other man sat back, clearly stunned and Oliver continued, “And as much as he was doing it to give me a chance to survive, I believe he was also doing it to atone for his sins. I need to right the wrongs done by my family, by the other Starling city elite. And I want you to help me.”

“You’re dropping bodies, Oliver.”

“Only when necessary.” He replied. “I would think you could understand that sometimes killing is unavoidable. That sometimes, it’s the only way to stop someone. Sometimes it’s justice.” Oliver decided to play his final card. “The police never caught your brother’s shooter.”

John almost came across the table, pointing his finger angrily at him. It was the most riled up Oliver had seen the man yet. “You leave Andy out of this!”

“The bullets were laced with curare. The same kind that you were shot with and the same kind that Floyd Lawton used to kill his targets. He is the sniper… that I stopped.”

“Are you trying to tell me you took down Andy’s killer?” Diggle whispered harshly, cutting his eyes to Carly behind the counter.

“I’m trying to tell you that I’m offering you the chance to help other peoples families. Do you remember when the people in this city helped each other? They can’t do that anymore, because of people… people like my father,” Oliver said bitterly, “They see nothing wrong with raising themselves up and crushing everybody they deem beneath them. It needs to stop. And if its not going to be the courts and the cops then it’s gonna be me.” His words were resolute, firm and unyielding. “Or I hope us.”

Oliver stood, giving the other man time to consider everything he’d said. Rob approached, and Oliver flashed him a smile. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, Rob.”

He wasn’t. He was going to disappear out the back and go meet Laurel to see what else she’d found about Peter Declan.

**

Felicity stood outside of Queen Consolidated, a frown on her face. She was more than a little confused when Walter Steele called her and asked her to meet him there. He said he had something he’d like to discuss with her, but that was an odd request, especially at this time of night. Normally, she wouldn’t just show up somewhere based on so little information, but she liked Walter Steele. She’d spoken to him a few times when QC tried to recruit her from MIT and again when she moved here. He’d offered her a job as a lowly IT tech multiple times and she’d turned him down continuously, but despite the constant rejection, he was always kind and respectful to her.

The only thing she could think of for why he asked to come was that he was offering her another job in the company. But it was after normal work hours, so it seemed like a strange time to do so.

When she entered the lobby, the guard saw her and pointed to the door she just came through. “No visitors past 7:30 pm and absolutely no solicitors.”

“My name is Felicity Smoak. I’m here to meet with Mr. Steele.” Felicity told him, walking closer.

The man seemed surprised, eyeing her up and down in clear judgement. “You’re Ms. Smoak? The business associate he’s meeting?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s me.” She answered, glaring at him. What was with everyone giving her those judgey looks today? Just because she didn’t fit the typical type of ‘businesswoman’ didn’t mean she wasn’t one.

Felicity owned her own successful business, and her appearance had nothing to do with it.

He handed her a badge and gestured to the elevators, “You can go up. Top floor is where his office is.”

“Thanks so much for your help,” Felicity said sarcastically, rolling her eyes before moving to the elevators.

As she made her way up, she wondered again what exactly Walter Steele wanted to meet with her about. The doors opened, and she stepped out into the executive floor. Her boots sounded heavy against the tile floor, so Felicity lightened her steps until they were silent. She wanted to give herself some kind of advantage over Mr. Steele. She knew it was probably silly, but she didn’t know what she was walking into and she preferred to have at least the element of surprise on him.

Felicity paused at the glass doors of his office, watching the regal Mr. Steele as he intently studied the documents on his desk. He seemed on edge, not exactly nervous but definitely stressed. There was a noticeable weight on his shoulders. He held himself tensely with a frown on his face. She knocked on the glass door, and his head shot up. Mr. Steele smiled tightly at her and gestured for her to come inside. Suddenly feeling anxious, like she was being called into the to the principal’s office, her babbling impulse was triggered.

“You know, if you had me come all this way just to try to hire me to the IT department again, I’m going to be super annoyed because my answer is still no. Not that Queen Consolidated is a bad company or anything, but I like my job as a PI. And I have pink hair. I think I’d have to dye it back blonde in order to work here and I like my hair. So I don’t want the job, because… pink hair.” Felicity finished her rant, stopping in front of his desk and then slapped a hand over her mouth. She grimaced.

Why did she have no brain to mouth filter?

Walter’s lips quirked into an amused smile. “I can assure you, Ms. Smoak, that I did not ask you here to offer you a job at QC. I know nothing I can say will convince you to join us, so your hair is safe.”

“Oh.” Felicity said, plopping down in the chair in front of his desk. “Then why am I here?”

“Well…” He looked like he was considering his next words carefully, before he let out a sigh. “I suppose I did ask you here to offer you work, but in your current capacity as an investigator.”

She couldn’t hide the surprise that crossed her face. “Uh, okay. What’s going on?”

Walter stared at her for a long moment, his eyes serious. “This requires the utmost discretion, Ms. Smoak. Do I have your word that nothing I disclose to you leaves this room?”

Felicity bristled.

“I don’t kiss and tell, Mr. Steele.” Her face burned as she realized what she said. “I didn’t mean it like that. Because we’re not kissing or doing anything like _that._ I’m not hitting on you. I just meant that I can keep a secret.”

Thankfully, he moved right past her verbal gaffe. “I found an anomaly in our books as I was going over Queen Consolidated financial statements. My wife assures me that the transaction was her doing—seed money for a startup. But I’m not certain I believe it. Now, I can follow numbers easily, but things become more muddled when computers become involved. I admit they’re not my strong suit, so I’d like you to track the where, and who, the money went too. Research everything you can and then bring me your findings.”

Felicity sat back in her chair, feeling back on her game. Shady transactions, hacking, and suspicious spouses were right up her alley.

“How much money was it?”

“2.6 million dollars.”

“Damn.” She let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of money.”

“I’m aware, Ms. Smoak. Are you in?”

“If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t even be having this meeting right now.” Felicity grinned at him.

He smiled at her. “I’m glad to hear it. I can send you the documentation and account numbers I have so you can do your independent research.”

“About that,” She said, leaning forwards slightly and pointing at his computer. “QC servers can only be accessed in the building with the proper login and passwords. I can’t do this from my own office.”

Walter frowned. “How do you know that?”

Felicity smiled enigmatically. “That’s why you hired me, because I know things I shouldn’t.”

“I can’t argue with that.” He said, amusement on his face. “I can get you placed into a private office on the IT floor. You’d have access to the servers and the discretion you’d need.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow and gestured to her hair. “Not to humble brag, but apparently I’m a pretty well known person in Starling. Someone is going to realize who I am, and we already covered the fact that I’m not changing my hair for you.”

“If anyone asks, we’ll tell them I hired you to test our firewalls and cyber security. Since it comes from me, no one will question it, but I’d prefer for you to still keep to yourself as to not draw suspicion.” Walter said, his voice was polite and his eyes kind.

“Alright. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Felicity stood up and held out her hand for him to shake. He rose from his seat and took her hand, shaking it professionally.

“Thank you, Ms. Smoak. Can you start as early as tomorrow?”

“Sure.” She agreed easily. “But I’m not wearing heels.”

**

Felicity woke up bright and early for her first day at Queen Consolidated. She nearly laughed at the thought of it as she was getting ready. It was strange to actually have a job that kept normal business hours, and one where she had to dress appropriately. Felicity eyed her reflection in the full body mirror that hung on the back of her bathroom door. She looked like every boring corporate drone ever, but Walter had asked her to keep a low profile so she had no choice.

A black pencil skirt, a pink button-down shirt paired with a grey cardigan in case she got cold, and her hair in a low ponytail. Her only acts of rebellion were the bright pink lipstick she wore and her flats that had little panda faces on them.

The entire outfit made her itch. Felicity didn’t feel like herself and she didn’t like it. She was already missing her ripped jeans and yoga pants. She knew the outfit was necessary for the job, and Hell she’d worn crazier outfits for other cons and jobs she’d run, but for some reason this outfit made her feel weird.

And she’d once worn a fake pregnant belly for a job, so that was saying something.

Maybe it was because this outfit, and working IT in QC, could have been the way her life had gone if Uncle Jack hadn’t come into her life and taught her the things she knew. She could almost picture that life. A boring 9 to 5 job where the only things she did was go to work, complain about being the most competent person there, come home to binge watch TV and eat mint chip ice cream.

No excitement. No cons. No adrenaline rushes. No thinking on her feet. No investigating.

Felicity shook her head, dismissing those thoughts. Because this outfit wasn’t her life now and it would never be. She was the kind of girl who knew how to hotwire a car in under 30 seconds and could steal a wallet without the person knowing until it was too late, and she was long gone. She could hack into the FBI in less than 20 minutes and not get caught.

With that in mind, Felicity exited her bathroom and tossed her purse over her shoulder. She kissed Ace on the forehead, promising him Mrs. Rosenbaum (the old lady next door) would be over to let him out soon, and then locked her apartment behind her.

When she got to QC, the guard who had been on duty last night wasn’t there. Instead replaced with four other members of security. Two sat at the reception desk, and two more stood guard near the elevators. Felicity discretely looked around the lobby. She counted five cameras she could plainly see but she knew there were more hidden. She noted the main entrance, and a secondary private entrance and elevator for executives. Those were all key card activated, needing the persons ID to make it work.

Felicity moved to the reception desk, and for once, the guards didn’t really pay her much attention. She attributed that to her librarian Barbie outfit, even with her colored hair.

“Excuse me,” She called out, trying to get their attention. Walter had emailed and said he’d have another pass and the documentation she’d need for her search waiting for her at the security desk. He’d put the account information on an encrypted flash drive. Walter said he didn’t want to walk her up himself so as to not draw attention to her presence, and she had agreed.

One of the guards looked up from his computer, and in the reflection of his shiny badge she could see the colorful blocks of Tetris on the screen in front of him. Felicity almost sighed. QC security was seriously in need of improvements.

“Yes? How can I help you, Miss?”

“My name is Felicity Smoak. I was told to pick up my welcome packet at the security desk this morning.” She told him, smiling politely.

“Right. I just got the email about you.” He nodded, then opened a drawer and pulled out a thick envelope. He slid it across the desktop to her. “Your pass is in there, along with a map of the building. IT is on the 27th floor.”

“Thanks,” Felicity answered, opening the packet and slipping the lanyard with ID card on it around her neck. She saw the flash drive hidden at the bottom.

“Good luck.” He smiled politely at her.

“I won’t need it.” She shot him a wink, and he flushed. As Uncle Jack said, luck was for people who didn’t have skill.

Laughing to herself, she made her way to the elevator bay. Time to go find out if Moira Queen was embezzling from her own company.

**

It took Felicity only until an hour past lunch to find out that, yes, Moira Queen may very well be embezzling from Queen Consolidated. At the very least, she was doing some very shady things. The 2.6 million was not invested into the company Moira had told Walter it was used for, because that company didn’t exist. Instead, she used it to set up an offshore LLC called Tempest. Tempest wasn’t underneath the umbrella of QC subsidiaries, nothing was registered with the Sectary of State, no tax records, no patent applications, nothing. Which meant that it was basically a shell company used to hide money and purchases. In the entirety of it’s existence, it only made one purchase.

In 2009, Tempest bought a warehouse in Starling City. Nothing else, just that.

Felicity leaned back in her chair, humming thoughtfully.

Before she told Walter any of it, she wanted to know what the Hell was in that warehouse.

It’s not that she didn’t trust Walter, she did.

Or at least, she did to a certain extent.

But family complicated things. If Moira Queen was up to something uber bad and Walter discovered it on his own, he might help to cover it up—regardless of how it could effect anyone else. Felicity didn’t blame him for it. She’d do the same if she was in his shoes. There were three people in the entire world who could call her at any time and ask her to help hide a body, no questions asked, and she would do it in a heartbeat.

So, she understood the need to protect family. But unfortunately for Walter, Felicity wasn’t a Queen and if that infamous family was up to no good (something that even her skewed sense of morality deemed not okay) she’d have to intervene. Felicity saw the world in shades of grey, playing fast and loose with most of the laws in the U.S. but there were certain things that she was still vehemently against. Even con men had to have a code of ethics to follow.

_**_

_Flashback: 14-year-old Felicity, 2003 Las Vegas_

_“I don’t understand.” Felicity huffed irritably, pushing her dark hair out of her face. “You’re just fine with pick pocketing, stealing from casinos, and the hundreds of other crimes you’ve helped me commit but you won’t help me do this?”_

_Uncle Jack looked at her from above the rim of the tea cup he was sipping from. “Yes.”_

_“But why?” She questioned, her voice having a bit of a whine to it._

_“Because Mouse, not every score is worth it.”_

_“This one is!” Felicity insisted, leaning forwards conspiratorially. “I’ve done all the recon, Uncle Jack. The car lot has closed circuit cameras so I can loop the feed, the safe is a simple tumbler lock that I can break into in under five minutes, and I know the office alarm code because they’re stupid enough to put the box right next to the windows and thanks to my binoculars I watched them enter it. I just need you as extra man power because I can’t carry all the money myself. I’d get Leo to help but he has toothpicks for arms.”_

_He stared at her, something unimpressed in his eyes that made her squirm uncomfortably in her seat. “You missed something.”_

_“What? No, I didn’t.” Felicity said defensively. She lifted her hand and counted off on her fingers, “Cameras, safe, alarm, back up, office schedule.”_

_“You forgot the people who own the car lot.” Uncle Jack said, finally setting down his tea cup. The ceramic cup clanked against the table with a firmness that felt chastising._

_“They sell cars in Vegas, that’s all I need to know. They’re the stereotype of every sleazy car salesmen joke, like ever.” She scoffed, but she wasn’t so certain, not with the way Jack was looking at her._

_“That’s your mistake, Felicity.” He said, the use of her real name clued her into how serious he was. She resisted the urge to look away from him, knowing that’d just serve to irritate him. “Never underestimate the mark, and never go into a job without full knowledge on who exactly you’re dealing with. It’ll either get you killed or weigh heavily on your conscious. Guilt is a danger within itself.”_

_“I… Well,” Felicity stammered, then stopped. “What did I miss?”_

_“The Kaplan’s opened their car dealership after moving here from New York, where the rest of their family lives. Mr. and Mrs. Kaplan have a son, Andrew. After 9/11, Andrew enlisted and went to Afghanistan. He joined because New York was his home, and he felt it was his duty. That sense of duty got him shipped home less than 8 months later missing his legs after an IED went off during a patrol. The Kaplans are currently drowning in medical bills and are trying to take care of their only son but it’s hard because business isn’t what it used to be, and Andrew is suffering in more ways than just physical. Do you still want to take that money from them?”_

_A sense of shame slammed into her chest so forcefully she gasped._

_“I didn’t… I didn’t know that.” Felicity whispered, completely mortified._

_“I’m not saying this to hurt you, Mouse.” Jack said softly, reaching across the table to pat her hand. “But in our world, so many create chaos without a thought to the causalities of it. Right and wrong isn’t simple, it’s situational. You must know the situation before coming to a conclusion. As bringers of chaos, we have a responsibility to ensure it’s done to only those who deserve it. And the Kaplans don’t deserve to have their money stolen from them.”_

_“You’re right. It won’t happen again.” Felicity said, resolved to never make the same mistake twice._

_“I believe you.” Jack nodded, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. “But I do happen to know another place with quite a bit of cash on hand, all dirty money and mob run that deserves a little chaos. What do you say?”_

_Felicity grinned. “Let’s bring it.”_

_Two days later, the Kaplans received an anonymous package in the mail containing ten thousand dollars in cash._

_**_

Felicity paced back and forth in her apartment while Ace watched her from his perch on the couch. To say she was in a state of disbelief would be a gross understatement.

She was shocked.

Confused.

Bamboozled.

Puzzled.

And undeniably curious.

After discovering the warehouse, Felicity lied to Walter and said she needed more time to trace the money. She didn’t, but she wanted to see what was in the warehouse herself. So, she had gone and was totally unprepared to find what she had.

The wreckage of the Queens Gambit that was clearly not caused by a storm was locked behind a door and accessed with the name of Moira Queen’s dead husband.

Why in the absolute fuck would Moira Queen have the boat that was supposed to be lost in the North China sea?

It brought up a whole slew of questions Felicity didn’t know how to answer but needed too.

Did she know where her son was the whole time? Did she know he wasn’t dead? Did she know the Gambit was sabotaged before her husband and son boarded? Did she kill Robert Queen?

Felicity didn’t think so. Moira Queen was a lot of things, but the impression Felicity got from her was that she’d protect her family at all costs. Felicity couldn’t believe she would knowingly send her son to his death, and she honestly believed the woman had thought Oliver died too. But why would she cover up what was done to them?

Moira Queen was a powerful woman, terrifying in her own right, so why didn’t she seek justice for the murder and attempted murder of her family?

Felicity came up with two reasons.

Either she never found out who sabotaged the boat and didn’t want to hurt her daughter further by bringing it to public light, or someone far more powerful, more terrifying than Moira Queen had done it and had scared her into silence.

She seriously hoped it wasn’t the latter, because someone who frightened Moira Queen wasn’t someone Felicity wanted to meet.

And she would meet them.

Because this was a mystery, and if there was one thing Felicity Smoak hated, it was mysteries. They needed to be solved. That rampant curiosity was what had formed her entire life. The skills she’d learned growing up were a product of that inquisitiveness. Without her need to learn and discover, Uncle Jack would’ve never seen the young girl counting cards while she did her homework at the bar of the casino her mother worked in and taken an interest in her. And now…

Now Felicity was going to use every trick, skill, and con in her arsenal to find out what in the hell was going on with the Queen family. 


	6. An Innocent Man Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and the Hood take on Iron Heights.

Okay, so maybe Felicity had been a little too hasty in her dramatic declaration of finding out all the Queen family secrets because it’d been two days and she was no closer to the truth than when she found the stupid warehouse. Walter, of course, had no idea about its existence. Felicity had decided against telling him about it. Instead, she’d told him that Moira had taken the 2.6 million to funnel through Tempest but lied and said she couldn’t find out where the money went from there. Felicity had heavily hinted that Moira probably had it withdrawn and paid someone off with it.

Which was a total lie.

But Walter seemed to have believed it. He’d been disappointed but he’d still paid her in full, and even told her he’d be calling her in the future if he discovered anything else, so at least he wasn’t suspicious.

Felicity was at her wits end it when it came to the next step she should take.

She didn’t have enough threads of information to start forming conclusions or to know where to start pushing for more. She’d already hacked into the SCPD to see if they had any reports of strange activity around the warehouse, but that’d been a dead end because there were none.

She’d even gone back to the warehouse and pulled what little information off of the keypad that she could, and all it did was back up the fact that besides her visit the other night, the warehouse hadn’t been entered but two times in back to back days. The first time she assumed when they were moving the Gambit in, and a second time which she guessed was Moira making sure everything was all there. She’d even hacked into all traffic feeds and security cameras around the area on those two days, but they’d all been wiped by someone who knew what they were doing.

Felicity let out a sigh, pushing herself away from her work desk. She ran her hands down her face, rubbing her tired eyes. She’d been staring at her computers for hours trying to find something. Hell, she was even considering asking Lance if he had criminal informants in the area who knew of anything going down near the warehouse. Most information CI’s provided was word of mouth, stuff that isn’t written down so only he’d know. But then again, the Gambit was put in the warehouse nearly three years ago. Who would remember a random day that long ago? However, _someone_ had to help move the boat into the warehouse and Moira could’ve used the local criminal talent and paid them off.

Maybe Lace could ask questions about a job to move a boat three years ago? That would be pretty memorable.

Her phone started to buzz, signaling a call.

“Speak of the devil,” She muttered under breath, picking up the phone. “Were your ears burning? I was just thinking about you.” What she said registered. “And not in a creepy way.”

“ _I don’t even wanna know_ ,” Lance replied, his voice dry. “ _I was calling because I need a favor._ ”

“When don’t you need a favor?” Felicity said teasingly, “You might have to hire me on as an official SCPD consultant if you keep asking for my help.”

Lance sighed. “ _Well, this is more of an unofficial favor. Outside of the SCPD.”_

“Oooh,” She cooed excitedly, “Now you’ve got my attention. What’s up?”

“ _I need you to follow Laurel and tell me who she meets up with.”_

“Meets up with?” Felicity questioned, then she realized. “Ah, little Miss Lawyer Laurel is meeting up with the Hood again.”

“ _I don’t know for sure but… Yeah I think so. She won’t drop this Declan nonsense, and Matt Istook was just attacked by the Hood. I think she listened to you when you told her to start with him and told the Hood. She could be arrested for aiding that psychopath and I’m not letting her throw her career, her entire life, away for him. I would do it myself, but I can’t get out of work. But you? This kind of thing is right up your alley. I want you to look after her if she meets up with him, make sure she stays safe and doesn’t get caught.”_

“Hmm,” Felicity hummed thoughtfully. She was considering it, seeing as Lance didn’t seem to want to throw the archer in jail. At least, not tonight. Quentin hated the guy, sure, but he wouldn’t risk his daughters future to arrest him. He was actually asking her to help aid and abet the Hood, and Laurel by association.

What a nice change in pace for Felicity and Lance. For once, he was breaking the law with her, instead of only Felicity committing (alleged) crimes.

“I’ll do it, but on one condition.” She said, an idea forming.

“ _What is it?_ ” He asked in trepidation.

“Don’t sound so nervous.” Felicity chuckled, a grin on her face. “I want one favor back from you. But it’s no questions asked.” 

“ _Fine._ ”

“Terrific,” She said cheerfully. “I want to know if any of your CI’s know about a big job in the warehouse district from March of 2009. It’d require a big crew and they were moving some pretty memorable cargo.”

“ _What the hell do you need to know that for?_ ” Lance demanded. “ _And what was the cargo?_ ”

“I thought we agreed you couldn’t ask any questions.” Felicity reminded him. She considered what to tell him. He’d want to know about what kind of boat, and if he just said memorable cargo and the time frame his CI’s would either know what he was talking about or not. “It was unique enough that you’ll be able to find it easily. But the no questions rule applies to the cargo as well. No asking questions to your CI’s about what it is, just who helped move it. Deal?”

“ _Deal._ ” Lance said begrudgingly. She could practically hear him grinding his teeth. “ _Alright, fine. But this Laurel situation stays between us.”_

“Obviously, Quentin.” Felicity rolled her eyes. “Do you know where Laurel is right now? And do you want Laurel to see me? Or to never to know I was there?”

“ _I don’t care. Whatever keeps her safe. She went to the courthouse to try and get Declan a stay of execution. She had a meeting with a judge.”_

“And then she’s assumingly meeting with the Hood.” Felicity mused. Then she grinned. “I love the irony there. I mean, come on the lawyer meeting with a judge in a courthouse then aiding and abetting a wanted vigilante? It’s just too good.”

“ _Just do it, Felicity._ ” He hung up the phone.

**

Laurel was by far one of the easiest (and most boring) people Felicity ever tailed. She’d been waiting outside the courthouse for a solid two hours for the other woman to come out, long enough that the sun was starting to set.

How long did it take to meet with a fracking judge?

If she didn’t know any better, she’d say Laurel escaped the courthouse without her realizing. But Felicity did know better, the hacked camera hall feeds on her phone showed Laurel entered the judges chamber an hour and half ago and hadn’t left. Felicity let out a sigh, laying her leaning back against her car’s headrest.

Maybe she could squeeze in a quick nap?

She glanced back down at her phone, and nearly fist pumped. Fracking finally. Laurel had left the judges chambers with a sour look on her face and a determined gait.

“So no stay of execution then,” Felicity mumbled to herself, starting her car.

Laurel left the courthouse, and Felicity watched as she got into her vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot. She tailed the lawyer easily, following from a distance Laurel wouldn’t notice. She followed her all the way to a convenience store, where Laurel went inside and came out with two bottles of wine. Felicity raised an eyebrow.

Did she need a little liquid courage before meeting with the Hood?

Felicity smirked.

Laurel really was in way over her head.

She watched as Laurel got back into her car, pulling out her cell phone. Felicity resisted the urge to try and trace the call. She knew it was going to the vigilante and someone had to make sure Laurel’s inexperienced ass didn’t go to jail for calling the Hood on her personal phone. With a heavy sigh and a shake of her head, Felicity activated the app on her tablet that would bounce the signal of all phone calls within 20 miles all around the United States. She designed the app just in case she ever needed it, like if her own encrypted phone was broken and she had to use another.

Twenty minutes later, it was fully dark outside as Laurel (and Felicity following her) pulled up to an old abandoned apartment building in the Glades. It was fairly tall, with maybe 20 floors. Felicity’s gaze was immediately drawn to the roof. She couldn’t see anything, but she knew the Hood was waiting up there.

“Part of me wonders if he just wanted to meet on the roof to do that stupid ziplining thing again,” Felicity muttered to herself, smirking. “He loves a good dramatic exit.” She shook her head. “And I’m going to stop talking to myself now.”

Felicity watched as Laurel stood in front of the building, eyeing the boarded up windows and graffiti painted walls. The front door used to be made of glass, the evidence of that was scattered on the inside of the building, the broken shards glinting in the moonlight. Someone definitely kicked it in, and no one bothered to come by and board the door up too. Laurel just stood frozen at the entrance, looking like she was trying to psych herself up to enter. Felicity rolled her eyes.

It wasn’t like she was breaking and entering. Because hello, the breaking part was done for her—all Laurel needed to do was the entering and step inside. At the very least, it’d be a minor trespassing charge, which was like a fine and an official warning not to go back.

Not that she would get caught, of course.

Felicity had made sure to cut the feeds of any working traffic or ATM cameras in the area. She’d turn them on again once they left. Not that there was many to reactivate as the part of the Glades they were in wasn’t the best. But Felicity figured the Hood had chosen this spot for that exact reason.

Laurel finally took a deep breath and stepped inside, trying to avoid the broken glass as much as possible in her high heels.

Another rookie mistake.

Never commit crime in high heels.

In the movies, they make it look awesome and sexy, but in reality, they’re a definite hindrance and good way to get caught. Only Bond girls can really do that kind of stuff in heels.

Felicity exited her vehicle, letting Laurel get further ahead of her before entering the building herself. She caught the flash of brown hair escaping into stairwell and Felicity caught the door before it could slam shut behind Laurel. She waited a minute or two then noiselessly opened it until she could step move inside, closing the door carefully so it didn’t make a sound. Unlike the rhythmic click-clack of Laurels heels echoing around the empty stairwell, Felicity’s footsteps were silent in her thick soled rubber combat boots.

She followed the lawyer out of the door on the rooftop, disappearing into the shadows before Laurel even noticed. She was standing partially behind a large ventilation shaft that hid her form but gave her a clear view of everything. Felicity scanned the rooftop, which was empty save her and Laurel. She figured it was so the Hood could make a theatric entrance. He was seriously a drama queen.

Felicity was proved right moments later when the whizzing noise of an arrow shooting through the air met her ears and stuck into the edge of the building. A zipline was attached, and both of the women watched as a hooded figure slid down on it and dropped onto the gravel covered ground of the rooftop. He blended in with the night in a way that was vaguely threatening.

Felicity had to give him props for knowing how to make an impression.

“I… I went to see a judge with all that you gave me from Istook,” Laurel said shakily, staring at his back. His large broad shoulders cut an impressive line. He had turned away from her (and where Felicity was hiding) no doubt to help conceal his identity. “It wasn’t enough. The judge denied the stay of execution.”

“We’re not done yet.” He all but growled out, his voice distorted by his modulator.

“I’m an attorney,” Laurel said carefully, “Trust me, we’re done.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. Lawyers. They only knew one way, and it didn’t work half the time. Sometimes a person had to go a little… outside of the law to get things done.

“What do you need to free Peter Declan?”

Felicity chose that moment to make her own dramatic entrance. She stepped out of the shadows. “I’m guessing a confession from the murderer himself, Brodeur right?”

The vigilante whirled around, knocking his bow and aiming an arrow directly at her. For her part, Laurel stumbled in surprise.

“Jesus Christ, Felicity!” Laurel exclaimed, her hand over her heart. She sounded pissed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Just got a little lost on my nightly walk is all,” Felicity grinned, waving at the Hood. “Care to lower the bow? I’m not dangerous. Well, at least not right now.”

He lowered the bow. “Why did you follow her?”

“The better question is what are you two planning?” Felicity asked, stepping closer to them. She tilted her head, giving Laurel a skeptical look. “You should really leave the high crimes and misdemeanors up to me, you’re not very good at getting away with them.”

“Excuse me?” Laurel spluttered, undoubtably pissed.

“If you’re going to somewhere for an illicit meeting that could get you put in jail,” Felicity explained, gesturing to the Hood, “Maybe make sure you’re not being followed, don’t get caught on security cameras, and definitely don’t use your personal cell phone to set up said meeting.”

“She did what?” The Hood exclaimed, sounding extremely scary.

Laurel’s face paled and she took a step away from him. “I… I didn’t even realize. Oh my god.”

Felicity patted her arm reassuringly, shooting a nasty look at the Vigilante for his attitude. She might not be the biggest fan of Laurel, but he didn’t have scare the poor woman half to death. “Luckily I’m me so I took care of it. There’s nothing for anyone to find.”

“I shouldn’t of involved you in this.” The archer said. It was aimed at Laurel.

A look of hurt cross her face, “Look I—,”

“No!” He cut her off. “We’re done here. I’ll figure out a way to end this myself.”

“How?” Felicity demanded, moving closer to him, unintimidated. When she stood within a few inches of him, she stopped. She tilted her head back to meet where she thought his eyes were, but he had his face angled away from her and it was so dark that nothing was visible. “By killing Brodeur? All that will do is add another murder charge to your rap sheet and leave Declan to his execution.”

“I haven’t decided yet.” He growled out.

“You need my help.”

“What about me?” Laurel questioned, an angry current in her voice. “I get that I screwed up tonight, but I’m new to all of this. Besides, you need me if you want to talk to Declan or get his execution appealed.”

The Hood turned his attention to the lawyer, and Felicity could almost feel the irritation coming off him in waves.

“I don’t need you, Laurel. And I definitely don’t need a someone who’s too green and itching for a fight they don’t know how to win. Especially not when losing means I go to jail.” 

Ouch.

Laurel looked taken aback. “That’s not—,”

The archer shook his head. “No. We’re done here.” He turned to Felicity. “Get her home safely.” With that, he shot another arrow and ziplined away.

“You don’t have to babysit me.” Laurel scoffed, anger etched across her face. It pulled her usually pretty features into a tight expression that was more sour than anything else. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’m going to free Declan.”

“How?” Felicity countered evenly, not rising to the level she knew Laurel wanted. Laurel wanted someone to yell at to take out her anger, and Felicity wasn’t going to be that person.

“I—,” Laurel faltered. “I don’t know yet, but I will. I’ll go back to looking at case law if that’s what it takes.”

“I know you don’t want my advice, Laurel,” Felicity said, feeling a little bit sorry for the other woman since she just got torn a new one by the Vigilante. “And I don’t like to be told what do either, but I think you need to let this one go. Let the professionals handle it.”

“I am a professional!” Laurel exploded, throwing up her arms. “I’m a lawyer for God’s sake.”

“But you’re not the kind of professional this requires.” Felicity said with a meaningful look.

**

Felicity unlocked the three deadbolts on the door to her apartment with a yawn. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. All she wanted was a nice glass of red wine to stop the headache that was forming from Laurel self-righteous explanation followed by the lawyer storming off. Laurel decided she was going to see Peter Declan and went to Iron Heights. And as much as Felicity liked Quentin she wasn’t going to try and stop his daughter on that one.

Laurel Lance was a grown ass woman and if she wanted to go to a prison this late at night to talk to her client then so be it.

It was a maximum security prison, she’d be fine. 

Felicity shut and locked her door behind her. She shrugged off her backpack, letting it fall to the floor. Her jacket followed.

Sweeping her hair up into a bun, Felicity called out to her oddly absent dog. “Ace? Where are you at buddy? Are you hiding because you’re mad at me? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I’d be gone so long.”

There was no scuttle of paws against the hardwood floor. With a frown, Felicity went to turn on the living room light. Sometimes Ace liked to hide partially under the couch. She flicked the switch, but nothing happened. A sense of unease pricked up her spine.

Something wasn’t right.

She strained her ears but didn’t hear a sound. No breathing, and no sounds coming from her dog. Blindly, she moved to where she knew her bookshelf was in her living room and reached behind it to grab the baseball bat hidden there.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” A modulated voice called out in the dark of her apartment.

Felicity startled, and in a singular quick motion she was brandishing the bat in front of her.

“What the absolute fuck are you doing in my apartment, Robin Hood?” She demanded, squinting in the dark and unable to make out his form. It was literally pitch black in her apartment. The only reason she knew the general location of where he stood was his voice carrying over to her. “And turn on the lights!”

A lamp switched on. She was able to see his large, broad form standing in front of the windows that led to the fire escape. The asshole must’ve broke into her apartment through it.

“Calm down. I need your help.” He said placatingly, holding up his hands. His palms were empty and open in the universal sign of peace.

“Where’s my dog?” She demanded, looking around for him.

“He’s fine. Sleeping.”

“Like sleeping with the fishes, sleeping? I swear to Google if you hurt him—,”

“Relax. He’s fine and asleep on your bed. I had to tranq him with a dart. It’s perfectly safe and he’ll wake up in a couple hours.” He explained calmly, like nothing was wrong. “I need your help with something.”

Felicity stormed forwards and held the bat threateningly. “You mean to tell me you broke into my apartment, tranquilized my dog, and you still have the audacity to ask for my help? I don’t fucking think so, mister.” She jabbed the bat into his chest. “How dare you? Who raised you? Where are your manners?” She punctuated each question with another jab of the bat.

The archer must’ve had enough, because in a movement that was almost too fast for her to see, he disarmed her. She didn’t even have time to react before he had the bat in his hands and out of her reach.

Not for the first time, Felicity realized just how dangerous he truly was.

“I understand that this may not be the best way too—,” He started to say but she interrupted.

“I want an apology.” Felicity demanded, crossing her arms. Dangerous or not, he didn’t get to treat her that way. Not if he was asking for help.

“What?” The vigilante asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“An apology. For my apartment and my dog.”

“I don’t have time too—,”

“Then I don’t have time to help you. Now get out.” She said stubbornly.

Felicity couldn’t see his face, but she had a feeling he was gritting his teeth. She smirked. They stood in silence for a few moments until he let out heavy exhale.

“I’m… sorry.” He spoke slowly and it sounded like he’d rather eat glass than say it.

“For?” She pushed, a grin on her lips.

“For tranquilizing your dog and…breaking into your apartment.”

“I accept.” Felicity said. “Now what was so important that you couldn’t tell me when you saw me literally an hour and a half ago?”

“I learned something after I left.” He explained, the modulator distorting his voice.

“Well, we know it wasn’t manners.” Felicity quipped. She felt the burn of his glare even if she couldn’t see it.

“I talked to Jason Brodeur.” The archer continued, entirely ignoring her snark. “And in exactly one hour a riot in Iron Heights is going to break out and Peter Declan will be dead. I’m going to stop it, but I need eyes inside. Can you do it?”

Felicity felt her stomach drop. “Fuck. Laurel is at Iron Heights she was going to talk to Declan.”

The Vigilante froze in shock. Felicity pulled out her phone and dialed Laurel’s number, only for it to go straight to voicemail. She tried again to no avail. Her decision was made.

“I’m in. But I’m not doing this remotely, I’m going in with you. You’ll need me inside as back up or incase the system can’t be accessed from outside of the prison.”

“Absolutely not.” He said immediately. “You could get killed.”

“Please,” Felicity scoffed, already moving around and gathering supplies she’d need. “I can handle myself. And I’m going in with or without you at this point.”

“Are you always this stubborn?”

“Yes.” She said without hesitation. “I’m going to change into something darker and a hoodie to cover my face. Stay here.”

Felicity changed in record time. She redressed in leggings that allowed lots of movement and a black t-shirt then a hoodie to pull low over her face. She only paused to rub Ace on the belly where he was passed out on her bed.

“I’m sorry about what the mean vigilante did to you but as soon as you wake up, I’ll give you all the treats you can eat.” She promised, kissing his furry head.

Felicity left the bedroom and found the archer exactly where she left him. She felt his eyes roam up and down her outfit, lingering on the hoodie.

“Green, really?” He asked, amusement peeking through the deep tone of the modulator.

“Figured we should match.” Felicity responded with a grin. She grabbed her backpack full of her supplies. “I’m ready.”

Forty-five minutes later they pulled into the woods surrounding Iron Heights. It was about a mile from the outer gate they were going to enter through. Felicity shakily got off of the vigilantes stupid motorcycle.

“You okay?” He asked, reaching out a gloved covered hand to steady her. “You look a little pale.”

“I _really_ don’t like motorcycles.” Felicity answered as she attempted to get her bearings back.

“You can infiltrate a warehouse full of armed guards, go up against a Triad assassin and break into a maximum security prison, but a motorcycle makes you uncomfortable?” He sounded way too amused in her opinion.

Felicity shot him a glare, and said defensively, “I can’t help it. It’s motion sickness thing.”

A breathy sound left the distorted tone of his modulator. She guessed it was a chuckle.

“Are we gonna do this or what?” Felicity asked, then cringed. “And by this I meant break into the prison, not anything else.”

Thankfully, he ignored the accidental innuendo. “Call Detective Lance and then we breach.” 

She tilted her head to the side. Terms like that made her think he was military or had some sort of military background. But she didn’t ask, instead she dialed the Detective’s number.

“ _Hello?_ ” The grumpy detective answered after the third ring.

“Remember how I texted and told you all was well with Laurel and she was going to Iron Heights to talk to Declan and you were super pissed?” Felicity asked, then without waiting on a response she continued, “Well, I just received an anonymous tip that a riots about to break out and the goal is to kill Peter Declan.”

“ _What?”_ Lance yelled down the line, causing her to pull the phone away from her ear. “ _How do you know that? Are you certain?”_

A loud siren filled the air, signaling the sound of the prison going into lockdown.

“Positive.” Felicity answered. The archer signaled for her to hurry up. “But I’ve got to go. You better bring the cavalry to Iron Heights. I have a feeling its about to ugly. TTYL.”

“ _Felicity, where the hell are you? What’s—,_ ” She hung up the phone before he could finish.

“We need eyes now.” The vigilante told her needlessly.

“Already on it.” Felicity muttered, swapping her phone with her tablet. She was in the prison camera system within moments. “I’m in. So far the riots contained to the cells, but the guards already look overwhelmed and who knows who Brodeur paid off to get them to Declan.”

He nodded once. “We need go. You will stay behind me at all times, got it?”

“Sir yes sir.” Felicity said mockingly, saluting him. She pulled the hood over her head until it covered her face.

In response, he turned on his heel and marched to the gate. She followed after him, keeping her footsteps silent and her tablet in hand. She checked the upcoming gate, there were two guards posted on at the watchtower but the gate itself was an electronic lock system. She could hack it, but the guards were a problem. Felicity tugged on the Hood’s leather jacket. He stilled and turned his head towards her slightly. 

“If you can incapacitate the two guards in the tower, I can get the gate open.” Felicity whispered, her fingers already moving across the screen.

“I had a different plan.”

“Which was?”

“Scale the wall, take out the guards, and climb over.” He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Hell no.” Felicity vehemently denied. “I don’t like heights, and this is way easier.”

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

“Well don’t sound so enthusiastic about it,” She said with no lack of sarcasm. “You just wanted to show off your ninja skills.”

He didn’t answer, instead taking aim at the guard tower window. She noticed a flashing red light on the arrow he’d chosen. An explosive, she realized. Probably a flashbang to knock them unconscious without killing them. He released the arrow and it sailed with perfect accuracy through the window and inside the tower room. Felicity heard and saw the flash from the explosion a moment later.

“Nice aim.” Felicity complimented, working on the gate lock. It was unlocked seconds later. “Ladies first,” She said with a smirk.

She had a feeling if she could see his face, he’d be rolling his eyes. The vigilante stealthily moved through the gate with her in step behind him. Strangely, no guards rushed out to stop them. In fact, they made it through another gate and approached the side doors leading into the prison itself with no issue. The only sound echoing throughout the air was the riot alarm. Felicity figured all the guards had been told to abandon their positions to help contain it.

“They must be seriously understaffed,” Felicity muttered under her breath as they came up to the door leading to the inside. She eyed the lock. This one wasn’t electronic, but key based.

“Good for us, and bad for them.” The Hood replied just as softly. “As soon as we enter though, it’s not going to be so easy. Are you sure you want to continue?”

“Positive.” Felicity said, tucking her tablet under her arm and pulling out her lock picking kit. She went to drop to her knees in front of the door, but a hand on her elbow stopped her. Felicity looked at the archer in question.

“My way is faster.” He said, guiding her away from the door before she could protest. He shot an arrow at the handle. It broke, and the door crept open.

“Idiot.” She hissed at him. “You do realize now we can’t lock it back and the prisoners could escape right? Hulk smashing everything isn’t always the solution.”

“I…” He paused, seemingly speechless. “Let’s move.”

Felicity let out a sigh. The man had no finesse sometimes. He relied too much on brute force when there were other alternatives. He led the way through the door, which opened into a hallway that split in two different directions. The emergency lights were on and the loud blare of the alarm was nearly deafening. At least it covered up the sound of their footsteps.

“Video feeds showed Laurel was in a visitation room with Declan,” Felicity said, having to talk over the siren. She glanced at her tablet and the schematics of the prison. “If we go left then straight, we’ll come to another door, we go through it and the hallway then at the end of it is the visitation rooms.”

He nodded and went left.

“One problem.” She called out, “Through that door leads to the western cell bay.” She flipped around her tablet and showed him the footage. “And it doesn’t look like all of the inmates are safely tucked away.”

A solid group of about fifteen prisoners were rioting in the narrow hallway. All causing some different form of destruction. 

“Guess I’ll have to fight my way through.” The archer grumbled darkly.

Felicity rolled her eyes at the dramatics and let out a sigh. She tucked her tablet away safely in her backpack and grabbed her modified taser out. The work she’d done on it gave more voltage than a cattle prod had. So, it should knock an Iron Heights prisoner flat on their ass.

“You’re forgetting I’m here,” She said, pressing the button on her taser until it sparks of electricity shot out. “And I brought Mr. Zappy.”

“Absolutely not. You stay here and I’ll clear a path then come back to get you.”

“Don’t be an idiot. That’ll take way to long and I can hold my own.”

“You have taser, Felicity,” He grumbled, and she resisted the urge to shiver at the way her name sounded that deep, rough voice. “It’s not enough.”

“You literally have a bow and arrow, that’s like the least efficient weapon ever. A sword would be better.” 

“No, it’s not.” He shot back, sounding offended. “And swords don’t allow for long range.”

But Felicity was done arguing, so with a wave of her hand she pushed past him through the door and into the mob of angry prisoners. They all paused their destruction to stare at her in shock.

“Hello boys,” Felicity said with a grin, waving her taser lazily. “Who wants to learn why Thomas Edison loved electricity so much?”

She heard a snort of what sounded like laughter from behind her. Felicity knew it was the vigilante. But he didn’t get to laugh at her entrance lines because his superhero catchphrase was ‘you have failed this city.’ His was stupid. Hers was at least educational. Her train of thought was cut off by the mob turning on them.

A prisoner rushed forwards, holding what looked like a sharpened toothbrush. Felicity parried the attempted strike by knocking her forearm against his wrist. The shiv (shank? She wasn’t sure) fell to the ground, and Felicity pressed the taser against his neck. He was on the ground unconscious in seconds. Felicity shot a grin at the Vigilante that said ‘I told you so.’ He ignored her as he started to engage with three inmates at once. One by one, they made their way through the cell bay, leaving unconscious but still breathing prisoners in their wake.

And fine, maybe he did take out the majority by himself, but Felicity still helped.

“That was fun,” Felicity said, panting slightly from the exertion as they pushed through doors that fed into the visitation room.

“Fighting rioting prisoners is fun to you?” The Hood asked in disbelief, stopping short. He turned his head to look at her, but she still couldn’t make out anything about his features. If she had to guess, he was staring at her in surprise.

“It’s not _not_ fun,” She said with a grin.

If he was going to say something, she would never find out what because at that moment they heard a feminine scream from one of the closed visitation rooms. They both took off in a sprint towards it. The archer didn’t even spare a second to open the door, instead kicking it open. Her eyes immediately landed on Laurel, who was on the ground with a prisoner over her while he choked her. The vigilante barreled towards them, tackling the inmate on the ground and landing on top of him. Felicity’s gaze searched for Declan, who was in the corner and was about to be killed by another inmate.

Apparently, these guys liked to choke their victims to death.

“Fuck,” She muttered, racing towards them. They didn’t see her approach, so using the element of surprised she reached up and pressed the taser firmly against the back of the attempted murdering inmate until he went limp. He slumped over on top of Declan. Felicity gave him a rough kick to shove him off and held her hand out to Declan. “Need a hand?”

He took it and stood on his feet shakily. “Who are you?”

“A friend.” Felicity answered. “That’s all that matters.”

He nodded, and she saw his eyes glance behind her. “Uh, you may want to get your other friend.”

“What?” She asked, turning around. “Damn it!”

Felicity ran towards the vigilante, where he was currently beating the prisoner who had Laurel to death. Her hand fell onto his shoulder, and she tugged, hard. He tensed but stopped raining down punches. His head turned back slightly towards her, like he was waiting on her to say something. 

“Enough.” She said gently. “That’s enough. He’s out.”

He let go of the man, and Felicity let go of his shoulder. She backed up, and he stood slowly, visibly breathing heavily.

“You good?” Felicity asked quietly, so Laurel wouldn’t overhear. The lawyer had pressed herself up against the wall, crying with her hands over her mouth as she watched the archer in horror. Felicity thought it was a bit dramatic. The vigilante did just save her life after all.

The Hood didn’t speak, but he nodded shortly.

Knowing that was the only answer she’d get, Felicity turned to Laurel. Felicity’s own hood was still pulled low, so her face was covered, and the woman obviously didn’t recognize her.

Which again, Felicity thought was stupid because who else would be helping the archer rescue her?

“Who _are_ you?” Laurel asked, sounding frightened.

“The person who just saved your ass,” Felicity retorted. She pulled out her tablet to check the feeds. She showed the vigilante the screen. The SCPD had arrived and were starting to clear the prison.

Laurel’s eyes widened. “Fel—,”

“You’re safe now,” The Hood interrupted, stopping Laurel before she could say her name. “Stay here and the SCPD will be in shortly.”

He grabbed Felicity’s upper arm gently and led her briskly out of the door. Felicity waved bye at Laurel who was still staring at her in shock. The archer was silent as he led her through the hallways again and back where they entered. They were right outside of the door he had broken. Footsteps registered in their ears, and he tensed. It sounded like another SWAT team clearing the area, based on how many steps they heard. Felicity watched as his head tilted up to the roof.

“Absolutely not,” She hissed. “I am not ziplining on a roof with you. That is where I draw the line, mister.”

“I don’t think you have much of a choice, Felicity,” He whispered back. Before she could protest, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her tightly to him. He shot out an arrow faster than she could blink, and Felicity held onto him for dear life as the grappling arrow lifted them onto the roof. Her fingers dug into his jacket over his chest as he kept her pressed firmly against his muscular body.

“You can let go now.” His modulator made it difficult, but she could’ve sworn he sounded amused.

Felicity stumbled back, blood rushing through her head at the height and quick movements. She was pretty sure she left nail marks in his leather jacket from how tightly she had gripped him.

“If you ever do that again without a warning,” Felicity threatened, slightly breathless which took away the intended effect. “I will tase you where the sun doesn’t shine. We clear?”

Instead of responding to her threat, he grabbed her by the shoulder and manhandled her down next to him until they were both kneeling. She swatted at his hand on her shoulder. Felicity really didn’t like that he could move her so easily. She understood he was bigger than her, but it annoyed her that he could so easily overpower her.

“Stop fucking doin—,” She snapped, ready to tell him to stop manhandling her when he shushed her.

“Shh,” He pointed below them. “They’re approaching.”

Felicity glared at him, but kept her mouth shut. They watched as the SWAT team entered the building. She nudged the archer’s shoulder and pointed at the wild-haired and pissed off Detective bringing up the rear of the SWAT team. He nodded, acknowledging he saw Lance. They were both quiet as Lance and two other members of the SWAT team remained outside the door. Lance looked extremely grumpy and kept shifting his weight, so Felicity assumed they forced him not to go in.

“Dad!” Laurel’s voice cried out, and seconds later she ran out of building and into her fathers’ waiting arms. “Oh, thank god.”

Another SWAT member followed her out of the prison, but no one else. They were probably assisting the other guards to get the prison under control again.

“Laurel,” He sighed in relief, hugging her close. After a moment, he pulled back and looked over her carefully. “You hurt?”

She shook her head. “No, no, I’m okay.”

“Good.” Lance said, embracing tightly her again. “Good.”

“Wait, Dad,” Laurel said, breaking free of him. She glanced around, her eyes darting between him and the other member of the SCPD. “I saw _her_ in there. She was working with him, the Vigilante. He’s… he’s a killer. He would’ve killed that man who had me. She had to stop him. Dad, I think she may know him. Feli—,”

“Laurel,” The detective cut her off sharply. “Do not finish that sentence. Leave her out of it. She was helping you get out of the mess you put yourself in. I don’t disagree that the Hood is a killer but… she’s not. She saved your ass.”

Felicity glared at Laurel. It’s not that she regretted her choice to save her life, but maybe they should’ve let that prisoner get a hit or two in before they saved her ungrateful ass.

Laurel’s eyes widened. “You knew? You knew she was already in there? Dad, she’s just as bad as he is. I can see that now, and I’m done helping them. She deserves to face repercussions for her actions, so does he.”

“Bitch.” Felicity muttered under breath. “I am not as bad as you. _I_ don’t dress up in leather to fight crime like _some_ people.”

The Hood elbowed her in the side gently, either as a signal to shut up or at the insult.

“Laurel,” Quentin snapped, “You will _not_ go anywhere near her, do you understand me? You will _not_ do anything to get her in trouble or caught for tonight.” He glanced around, then stepped closer to her and lowered his voice to where Felicity almost couldn’t hear it. “Felicity Smoak can ruin your life in a single keystroke if she wanted. She is not somebody to mess with. How do you think she’s survived this long being a P.I. in this city? Half the criminal population is terrified of her, and with good reason.”

Felicity grinned, feeling smug. Because yeah, she could destroy Laurel if she wanted.

Sometimes, it was just nice to have her talents appreciated.

“I can’t believe you’re protecting her.” Laurel said, an angry note in her voice.

“I’m not protecting her, Laurel.” Lance said in exasperation.

And okay, ouch that hurt her feelings a little bit. Felicity had thought her and Lance were starting to become buddies.

Guess they were back to being frenemies.

“I’m protecting _you_ ,” He continued, “You keep getting in over your head and it’s me who has to dig you out. I don’t like to admit it, but I don’t have the strings to pull like I used too. The SCPD is getting more corrupt by the day so I’ve had to look elsewhere. And one day, Felicity Smoak is going to stop granting me favors.”

That wasn’t true.

Lance was a good cop. Honest and true down to his shoes.

Felicity would never deny him any favor he asked, but it didn’t hurt to let him think the opposite. It kept him on his toes.

Laurel was silent, and Lance scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Come on, let’s get you checked out by the paramedics and get you home.” Lance pulled her away, moving towards the outskirts of the prison where ambulances had started to arrive. 

Which was an issue.

They had started to block where her and the Vigilante had entered.

She looked over to him. “Now what?”

“We wait for them to clear out.” He muttered.

Felicity sighed, sinking down to her bottom. She crossed her legs. “Crime fighting can be so boring.”

She could’ve sworn she heard him huff out a laugh.

“How do you know how to fight like that?” The archer asked quietly, turning his head towards her. His hood was pulled low over his face and the dim light made it impossible to make out his features, but she knew he was staring at her intently. She could feel it.

“It’s a long story.” Felicity answered.

“We have time.”

“Are you going to tell me where you learned to fight like that then?” She countered. He was silent. “Thought so.”

They sat in comfortable silence as they waited for the SCPD to clear out.

**

_Flashback: 13- year-old Felicity, 2002 Las Vegas_

_“Again.” Uncle Jack commanded, his voice even but stern._

_Leo groaned loudly from the black athletic mat he was sprawled out on. Felicity grinned, pushing the stray brunette locks that had fallen from her ponytail out of her face. She moved back into position, feet spread to keep balance and her fists up._

_“What’s wrong? Tired of getting knocked on your ass?” Felicity taunted Leo._

_“Language.” Uncle Jack chastised her. “Leonardo, up.”_

_The thirteen-year-old boy glared at Felicity, jumping to his feet. “I’m letting you win because you’re a girl.”_

_Felicity laughed._

_“Keep telling yourself that, **Leonardo**.” She emphasized, knowing how much he hated his full name. Only Uncle Jack and Leo’s Dad could call him that. But to be fair, they were both very scary, very powerful men that no one wanted to correct. _

_Leo launched himself at her, throwing a punch she blocked easily. She aimed her own at his stomach, but he twisted to the side so her blow didn’t land its full impact. Before she could make her next move, Leo’s leg swung out taking her clean off her feet. Felicity landed hard on her back; the wind completely knocked out of her. Leo didn’t hesitate, putting his foot lightly on her throat._

_“Say it.” He grinned, a mischievous look in his brown eyes._

_“I yield.” Felicity said through gritted teeth, still slightly breathless._

_Leo laughed, removing his foot and offering her a hand. She took it with an affectionate roll of her eyes. She hated losing but Leo rarely won sparring against her so she’d give him the win. Uncle Jack had been teaching her to fight for awhile now, and Leo’s dad (a mob boss, owner of the casino her mom worked in and a friend of Jack’s) asked him to teach his only son as well. Jack had agreed and Leo became her sparring partner. Felicity didn’t mind though._

_He was much easier to take down than her Uncle or one of the security guards he made fight her._

_“Good fight, both of you.” Uncle Jack praised but with a critical eye. “Mouse, stop getting over confident. Leonardo was able to take you down because of it. Always focus on your next move, never assume it’ll be an easy fight. Leonardo, you get angry and then you lose focus. Keep a level head, turn your opponent’s moves against them.”_

_“Yes sir.”_

_“I’m only confident because I’m good.” Felicity smirked. Leo reached up and smacked her on the back of the head. “Ouch! Hey!”_

_“Not good enough to see that coming.” Leo shot back, a grin on his lips. Felicity was about to respond when Uncle Jack chimed in._

_“Enough you two, you bicker too much.” He laughed. He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Now get out of here before I make you both spar with me.”_

_Felicity and Leo shared a look then high tailed it out of the gym._

**

The next morning, Felicity woke up in bed to her very insistent dog licking her face for attention. But after the Vigilante had tranquilized him, Ace deserved all the love and attention he wanted. Felicity gently pushed his head away with a laugh then scratched behind his ears. He pulled back slightly and flopped on his back next to her to reveal his belly. She grinned and leaned over to rub his tummy. Ace let out a happy bark.

Taking a break for a moment, Felicity reached over to her nightstand and grabbed her glasses and TV remote. She flipped on the TV. Ace kicked her with his hind leg for ignoring him. She went back to petting his belly. The Starling City local news filled the quiet in the room as Felicity watched the screen. She had one hand on Ace and the other on the remote, about to change the channel to cartoons. Or she was, until a breaking news banner flashed across the screen.

Felicity sat up straighter, suddenly wide awake as she read the headline.

No fucking way.

“ _It seems like this morning at seven am,”_ Bethany Snow reported, an excited gleam in her eyes than almost bordered on manic, “ _Oliver Queen was arrested at the Queen family mansion under charges spanning from assault to murder. The SCPD believes that Mr. Queen is the hooded archer whose been stalking Starling streets at night._ ”

What the fuck?

Could it be true?

Suddenly memories flashed through her mind. The way Oliver had seemed in Big Belly Burger, the bullet ridden laptop he brought her, the shitty lies, and the most damning of all… The five years he spent on an island.

The Vigilante didn’t appear until Oliver Queen returned from the dead.

It was entirely possible they were the same person.

Felicity felt like the worlds biggest idiot, and her cheeks burned with humiliation because she didn’t realize it sooner.

Oliver Queen was the Hood.

Oh she was going to kill him.


End file.
